Page 60 of Love in the Time of Scandal
“That’s all over,” he said firmly. “The past is over and done with.”
She looked grateful. “Thank goodness.”
The guests began to arrive soon. One of Gray’s brothers with his wife, an amiable, good-natured couple. Another couple who were good friends with Samantha, Lord and Lady Roxbury. A neighbor, Mr. Wayles-Faire, who was also an artist, and his sister, who kept house for him. Abigail and Sebastian had not been able to come after all; nor had Elizabeth and Lord Turley, but Samantha passed on their congratulations and an invitation to visit at the soonest opportunity. Everyone was friendly and warm. Benedict was both pleased and surprised that his sister had such a circle of friends, and greatly touched that she had arranged such an evening for him and Penelope.
They strolled about the garden chatting. It was a magnificent evening, and more than one lady discarded her shawl in the cloistered warmth of the garden. From time to time someone would exclaim over a newly discovered figure painted in some hidden spot, causing Samantha to exclaim in astonishment and hurry to see. Gray’s satisfied grin got bigger each time she laughed at the lizard painted on a stone bench, or the frog painted on the rim of the fountain.
“What a prankster you are,” Samantha scolded her husband with a fond smile.
“Of the best sort!” Penelope wanted to see each little gem, too, and the four of them had congregated over the tiny image of a hummingbird painted on the bricks above the roses. “Such whimsy! What have we overlooked?”
Gray just winked at her. Samantha gasped. “Oh, there are more? Where?”
“You’ll have to keep looking for them,” he told her. “Inside the house and out.”
“Inside the house?” Samantha turned shining eyes on Penelope. “We must search it from top to bottom!”
They were all still laughing when the butler appeared in the drawing room doorway, looking ill at ease. He hesitated, his eyes roaming the garden before lighting on them. Then he all but ran to Gray’s side. “My lord,” he murmured, and whispered the rest of his message in his employer’s ear.
Gray’s eyes narrowed. He gave a curt nod and turned to follow the butler back into the house, but his wife stopped him with a hand on his arm. “What is it?”
He glanced at Benedict, then leaned down and told her, too softly for anyone else to hear. Samantha was already facing him, so Benedict had a good view of his sister’s face as it went ashen. “Father’s here?” she whispered, almost numbly.
Benedict felt the same stab of alarm. Instinctively he reached for Penelope’s hand and pulled her to his side. “Why?”
“I don’t know!” Samantha looked to her husband in worry. “What should we do?”
“Invite him to call another time,” suggested Penelope after a moment of frozen silence.
“Brilliant thought! I concur.” Gray no longer looked jovial or pleased.
“Oh no, we couldn’t dare!”
“I could,” muttered Gray. “What say you, Atherton?”
Benedict felt the weight of three sets of eyes on him: his sister’s anxious, his brother-in-law’s measured, and his wife’s wary and curious. Why the devil was Stratford here? He wasn’t invited. He barely acknowledged Gray, and he’d banned Benedict from his sight. Whatever had brought him to town, to this house tonight, couldn’t be anything good. Tonight, when he and Penelope were in good charity, when Samantha was so happy, the earl was the very last person he wanted to see. “Turn him away,” he said in a low voice.
Gray clapped his shoulder. “Excellent decision. Crawley, tell his lordship we are engaged, and ask him to call another time—” he began telling the butler.
“Too late,” whispered Samantha, facing the house.
As one, the rest of them turned toward the house. Framed in the well-lit doorway stood the Earl of Stratford, as dark and grim as the specter of death. As if he’d been waiting for their attention, he came down the few steps and strode toward them, his gaze never wavering. The other guests withdrew at his approach as if they felt a chill, and the hum of conversation grew noticeably quieter.
Gray muttered something to his butler, who hurried off, and stepped forward as Stratford reached them. “Good evening, sir,” he said with a bow.
Stratford barely looked at him. “Indeed.”
Samantha wet her lips and stepped around her husband, who immediately put his arm around her. “Good evening, Father.” She curtsied. “I had no idea you were in town.”
“Only just arrived.” He glanced around at the lanterns, the streamers, the now-quiet guests. “I trust I’m not intruding.”
“Obviously not,” said Gray evenly. “We’re delighted to have you join us.”
“How gracious.” Stratford turned his hooded eyes on Benedict. “Is there a special occasion being celebrated?”
“Indeed,” said Samantha, beginning to recover her poise, although she never released her husband’s arm. “My brother’s marriage. I’m delighted to have another sister, and we wanted to wish Benedict and his bride joy.”
“Indeed,” repeated the earl. He finally turned to Penelope, giving her a brazen up-and-down inspection. “Here is the bride, I take it.”
