Rivals and Revels (A Regency Romance)

15. The Farewell Visit

By now, Mabel grew accustomed to Everett's dramatic entrances, so she didn't blink twice when he brought up his hell-horse to a whirling stop. Edwin and Hugh, on the other hand, glued to the window with exclamations so loud that Mrs. Walton upbraided them. Mabel stifled a sad smile: was it like Hazel and herself appeared to Miss Carter?

Everett burst inside (thankfully without the horse), bringing in crisp air and sunshine. She might have known every speck of dust by name in the sitting room, but in the fresh glow radiating from him, even dust turned golden and set out to dance.

She sweltered in her second-best dress, one in the apricot shade, with tiny flowers dotting the muslin. The girlish cheerfulness of the gown didn't suit her agitation, but she couldn't bring herself to wear the pale blue disgraced by the waltzing, nevermind that Radcliffe had complimented it as suitable for the divine huntress Artemis. She didn't feel like a huntress, let alone divine, with her breath caught in her throat and a premonition of a catastrophe.

Everett would betray her awful behaviour to her parents the moment he stepped over the threshold.

Everett would mock her secret outings.

Everett would hate her dress as hopelessly provincial.

Instead, he laughed bellicosely, apparently in the highest of spirits, apologizing profusely for leaving so soon. "My brother's dedication to the Parliament and the foreign policy is exhausting."

Before she could stop herself, an exclamation was already out of her mouth. "How perfectly fascinating, please, Mr. Chesterton, tell us more!"

Not a muscle twitched in his face. "Radcliffe is already making notes for the next session, intending to put forward the topic of glass sheet taxation by weight."

"By weight? A splendid idea." So much for her plan to sit in a doll-like fashion.

His brow lifted mockingly, or worse, pleased. "Thanks Heavens I can entertain you so well with domestic politics."

"Lord Chesterton is such a wonderfully fascinating man and quite an intellectual," Mabel said brightly. At the last moment, she thought better of adding a dreamy sigh at the end. But only just.

"He had dedicated himself to various studies since an early age," Everett replied just as brightly, though the corners of his eyes now tightened. "I was more of a healthful fellow, welcoming the outdoor pursuits."

What about now? Mabel almost asked, have you abandoned them?

She bit her tongue this time, because he studied her with more attention than their trifle exchange warranted. Unless she missed her guess, he was inquiring clandestinely into who had spied on him by the lake. And she had nearly given herself away already by needling him about Radcliffe. Oh, but his reaction was worth it!

Mrs. Walton craftily filled the lull in the conversation with the invitation to the table. Indeed, it was four o'clock already, past their normal dinner time. This clever compromise between the pastoral tradition to dine early, and the fashionable trend to wait till six or even eight o'clock was devised specially for Everett's benefit.

Mabel wasn't sure he appreciated it, for he declared himself ravenous. And he did look ravenous in every sense. As ravishing as ever, even without the memories that lit her cheeks with natural blush brighter than the priciest Italian powders.

Their dining room must have been bleak to his eyes. The oaken table to seat ten, the frilly curtains, the portraits darkened by time in too heavy frames. The porcelain service was definitely not of Sevres' make, but of the closer-to-home production. Oh, and there was a tower clock in the corner, ticking away in a grand-fatherly fashion.