I should have guessed Rosamund would not take my insubordination without retaliation. George caught up to me at the breakfast table. "What's this I hear about you keeping Rosamund from visiting Mother? Do you somehow think you have the monopoly on Mother's time now you are here?"
"Certainly not," I said, offended he would suggest such a thing. "I did, however, know Mama was resting and did not wish to be disturbed. While I attempted to explain this to Rosamund, Mama overheard and sent a maid to inform us to take ourselves elsewhere. If you don't believe me, you may ask Mama the next time you see her."
George scowled. "I don't see what you have against Rosamund, Luke," he said as he pulled a chair out to settle into next to me. "Can't you see how stressful you are making things with this petty disagreeableness?"
My appetite ruined, I put my fork down and pushed my plate away. "My petty disagreeableness? I did not set out to butt heads with your wife, George. We do not get on, and I don't imagine we ever will. She has taken far too much interest in what I do, and I do not appreciate it. The decisions I make in my life are for me and me alone."
"She is merely concerned—."
"Concerned? She is a nosy busybody, which is the nicest way I can put it."
"Luke, that is what I mean when I say you are disagreeable. You hardly know Rosamund, and yet you call her names."
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "You wish to know the truth? Fine. I do not like Rosamund. I did not want to say anything because I know you are...fond of her." I mentally added the words 'for some unknown reason.' "I do not care for her manner of speaking. Perhaps it is because we are unacquainted, but as I said already, I doubt further time with her will change my opinion."
"Rosamund is a true lady," George said defensively. "Why can you not see that?"
"No, our mother is a true lady. I can only hope one day I find someone who is Mama's equal."
George frowned. "One day? You do not think Phoebe is worthy of you?"
I mentally kicked myself for the slip-up. "Do not put words in my mouth, brother-of-mine," I said sharply. "I said no such thing about Phoebe's worth. She is a fine girl, as you know, but she is not like Mama."
"It's shabby of you to criticize her."
"As shabby as trying to arrange a marriage for me that I do not want?" I shook my head. "Why must we argue whenever we are in the same room?" I asked, deciding to leave the topic altogether. "When I think of the fun times we had as children, I am ashamed we quarrel so often now."
It was true. He and I had been close as children. Perhaps it was the mental idea of it being the only boys against four girls. Once we were sent to school, though, we had drifted apart, each finding our own friends. When he left school, his interests went into learning how to run the estate, while mine went to exploring the world.
Heaving a sigh, George shook his head. "Don't think you can use your charm on me, Luke," he said, though a familiar note of fondness had crept into his tone. "Mama lets you get away with anything and everything."
"She does not." An idea hit, causing me to grin. In a gesture of peace, I asked: "Do you feel up to some fishing this afternoon?"
Looking genuinely regretful, he shook his head again. "Rosamund has already requested I attend her on some visits today," he said as he got to his feet. "And Father needs my assistance on a few matters for the estate. I have no free time."
Disappointed, I forced a smile. So much for reinstating the bond between us. "Another day then, George."
George started to walk away, but then bent low by my side. "Between you and me, I would rather be fishing."
"No one will hear it from me," I said as he straightened up. My brother clapped my shoulder once before he left the room. Picking up my coffee cup, I stared at the opposite wall as I contemplated everything that had happened in the last few days.
When I had arrived in Paris, a stop I had avoided when I first set out on my Grand Tour, I had expected to be able to spend at least two months there. Instead, the letter from my father had caught up to me, and any plans for enjoying myself went out the window. A part of me selfishly wished the message had been lost on the way.
Since then, I had traveled nonstop to get home only to learn of Mama's accident. It was only for her sake I was glad I had returned. Perhaps a fresh perspective on her situation, a positive outlook, would be just what she needed to get out of bed and reclaim some of what her life used to be. I would be willing to endure anything to see that happen.
I heaved a sigh as I acknowledged it seemed I was doing just that. I not only found myself in a farce of a courtship but also of having to find some way of aiding my best friend to retrieve a ring he should have known better than to risk on a wager, security or not. Add in the disdain of my new sister-in-law, and I was faced with what was sure to be the worst month of my life.
But if I had not come, I would likely have not met Miss Darkin. Her warm smile and sparkling eyes rose in my memory. To be honest, I wished to know her better as the house party progressed.
"There you are, Luke. I've been looking for you everywhere."
Miles' voice pulled from my thoughts, and I put a grin on my face as I shifted in my chair to face him. He had changed from his riding clothes to obviously old attire. "Am I to assume you wish to go fishing?" I asked, taking a guess.
"Well, I hardly want to be obliged to remain where I would be expected to converse with Mrs. Bywood anymore than necessary." He sent a glance over his shoulder and gave an exaggerated shudder. "I thought you were being yourself when you warned me against her, but she is truly awful."
"I told you—wait. What? What do you mean you thought I was 'being myself?'"
Miles gave a nervous laugh. "Nothing. Is the tackle in the usual spot?"
"Miles! Tell me what you meant!" I sprang to my feet. He bolted from sight, and I sprinted after him in close pursuit. "Come back here!"
****
I spent the rest of the week finding ways to avoid my sister-in-law. Fortunately, I had Miles on my side in this matter, and he was up for anything as long as it took us far from Rosamund. As a result, on one day we rode over to watch a fight. To say no one was pleased with us would have been an understatement.
"I cannot believe you rode all that way to watch a fight! What appeal is there to watch two men beat each other into the ground?" Philippa said as she searched the shelves of our library. The rain, much to my regret, had kept us trapped inside. "It is completely ridiculous!"
With a chuckle, I glanced up from the letter I was writing. It was fortunate Rosamund was not of a literary bent, for she had not followed us into the library. Miles was in a chair across the room, and there was a book open in his hand. From the way his head rested in his hand, though, it was more likely that he was napping.
"I can think of a few situations that are just as, if not more, ridiculous," I said. "Take, for example, the tradition of young ladies traveling to London for a specific period, all in the pursuit of a husband."
My sister scoffed as she faced me. "No one gets hurt during the Season."
"Oh, don't they? What about the young ladies who have some misfortune occur during the Season? Perhaps they do not have the funds to be dressed in the latest style, or they do not make an impression on the patronesses of Almack's. Or the young men who are taken advantage of by those more skilled at cards. You cannot say they are not hurt."
Philippa collapsed into the closest chair and leaned towards me. "But don't you see, Luke, those things are avoidable by all. A clever girl will be able to make it look as though she is dressed as fashion dictates, and she will flatter everyone who needs to be flattered. Young men should avoid cards as it is."
"Philly, don't be a prude." I returned to my letter, intent on finishing it. My eldest sister, Jane, deserved a few lines from me to be informed I was no longer abroad. "It doesn't suit you."
"And do not think you will distract me from scolding you about the fight. I think it horrible you would go off and leave me to amuse myself."
And there we reached the heart of her annoyance. "Well, it's not the thing for young ladies to be seen at fights, Philly. Besides, you have more than enough to do here to keep yourself amused. If Miles and I were by your side every minute, you would be yelling at us both within an hour."
"Better you than someone else I could mention," she said, just loud enough for me to hear. So, Miles and I weren't the only ones having issues with Rosamund. Philippa raised her voice and continued, "Why should you be able to run around and do whatever you wish when I must wait to do things properly."
"There does tend to be a double standard." Struck by that thought, I lowered my pen. "Young men are raised to be independent, while ladies are expected to rely on a man, their father, brother, and, if they are fortunate, husband."
Before we could discuss it any further, the library door opened and Butler stepped in. "A Mr. Bartholomew Talbot has arrived. I've put him in the drawing room."
Instantly, Philippa scrambled to her feet. "Has Mrs. Bywood been informed?" she asked, an apprehensive note in her voice that caught my attention.
"I believe Mrs. George Bywood is up in Mrs. Bywood's room."
"Come along, Luke," Philippa said, her expression clearing. "I want you to meet my betrothed. Mr. Russell, you are welcome as well. It may be more entertaining than your book."
An air of wounded dignity hung on Miles as he rose. "I wasn't sleeping."
"You were, but no one said a word about it," I said with a forced laugh. "Lead the way, Philly."
There was a bounce in my sister's step as she left the room. It amazed me to realize she was genuinely fond of this Bartholomew Talbot, though all accounts had said he was her complete opposite. Whether I would see what had attracted her was yet to be seen.
"Playing chaperone was not my idea of how today would go," Miles said, keeping in step beside me. "I can't imagine anything more tiresome."
"Not even reading a book?"
Miles glared at me and muttered under his breath. Philly ignored us both and pushed open the drawing room. "Mr. Talbot," she said, rushing into the room with hands outstretched. "You have finally come."
"Miss Bywood," said the tall man. He made no move to take Philippa's hands and bowed. "I trust I find you well."
"Better than ever now that you have arrived," my sister said him, her voice bubbling with happiness. "You must, of course, remember Mr. Miles Russell. And this is my brother, Mr. Lucas Bywood, just recently returned from his Grand Tour."
Talbot and Miles exchanged greetings, and then my sister's betrothed faced me. I took a moment to study him. His height made me feel small in comparison. His eyes were a strange blue-gray, and his hair was a sandy brown. His clothing was plain to the point of severeness. "Ah, the younger Mr. Bywood," he said, his eyes scanning me. "I've heard a great deal about you."
"Thank you, Mr. Talbot. You are the second person to remark on how much you have heard of me. I am beginning to feel concerned."
Honestly, what was my family saying about me? What kind of subjects would prompt them to bring me into it? "You must not make this about you, Luke," Philippa said, her tone scolding. I pursed my lips to keep from giving her the set down she was in clear need of. To do so in front of her husband-to-be would not be right. She gestured to the chairs. "Why don't we all sit down?"
Naturally, we all did so. "And how did you find your travels, Mr. Bywood?" Talbot asked.
"I was enjoying them more than I had anticipated," I said, striving for a cheerfulness I did not feel. "The art in Italy is even better to view in person than to read about in a book. And, of course, the sights of Paris cannot be compared with anything else."
A maid carried in the tea tray then. "Fascinating," Talbot said in a tone that said he didn't think it to be fascinating at all. "It was always my opinion young men would be better off not spending their family's money on such an excursion that is merely for pleasure and instead such men ought to put that time to use in preparing for the future."
"And why is that?" Miles asked, sounding offended on my behalf. "It is, in general, thought to be just the thing to broadened a young man's view of the world."
"True, but more often than not, it leads the inexperienced down dangerous paths to their ruin."
Philippa's forehead creased with a frown, appearing alarmed by the conversation. Taking pity on her, I said, "Well, to each their own opinion. I have come to no harm, nor brought disgrace on my family. I spent a portion of my inheritance and caused no depletion of the family coffers. But let us speak of something else. Did you have a pleasant journey here, Mr. Talbot?"
"I did." He accepted a cup of tea from Philippa's hand.
"I am so looking forward to the house party," Philippa said, choosing a more neutral subject. "Do you know who else has arrived at Braglow?"
As Talbot faced my sister, I saw the stern expression on his face soften. "The Williamsons arrived yesterday soon after I did. Mr. Ward is also expected to arrive at some point today."
"Mrs. Ramsey invited Ward?" Miles asked in a surprised tone. "I thought she disapproved of him."
"He may have some rakish tendencies, but he can be amusing and agreeable when he wishes to be, you know," Philippa said with a laugh. "Phoebe claimed she did not know who would be coming, but I am glad to learn the Williamsons have come. The daughters are delightful."
"I don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting them," I said thoughtfully. "What sort of girls are they?"
My sister shook her head, her expression reproving. "It doesn't matter what sort of girls they are, beyond the fact they are sweet and agreeable," she said in a prim way that was not normal for her at all. She focused all of her attention on Talbot. "It feels like it has been too long since we last spoke, Mr. Talbot."
Their formality with each other was puzzling, most likely because I was of a more relaxed nature. "Well, there will time enough for us to speak during the house party," Mr. Talbot said to her.
Leaning back in my chair, I watched as the other three conversed about minor matters. Philippa's enthusiasm was not as noticeable as it once had been, and Talbot's reserve lessened the more they spoke. Miles lost his bored expression as he explained some occurrence he had witnessed while in Town.
None of them applied to me for an opinion on the subjects, for which I was both grateful and annoyed. True I had not had the same awareness of London happenings, but I could have contributed similar situations from abroad. However, I knew doing so would only create conflict, so I held my tongue.
Soon enough, Talbot set aside his teacup and got to his feet. "I will take my leave of you now. No doubt the first activity of the house party will take place soon."
"Oh, must you?" Philippa asked, also rising. Miles and I followed suit. "You have only been here a few minutes."
"I have no wish to overstay my welcome, Miss Bywood," he said, his voice becoming stern once more. He nodded at Miles and then an even briefer nod at me. "Mr. Bywood. Mr. Russell."
Philippa heaved a sigh as soon as the drawing-room door closed behind him. "He will not be convinced it is appropriate for him to stay longer," she said, sinking back into her seat.
I caught Miles' eye and then shifted my gaze to the door. Taking the hint, he invented the excuse of having to write a letter and left the room. I crouched down next to Philippa and took her hand in mine. "Philippa, I must ask you to refrain from scolding me in polite company." She focused wide, innocent eyes on me. "It does not reflect well on either of us. We are neither of us children and bickering hints at a poor upbringing."
"You started it!"
"Philippa, I did not," I said in exasperation. "I merely remarked I seem to have been the topic of conversation while I was away. Rosamund and your Mr. Talbot have both made comments about having heard about me. You are the one who then said I ought not make the conversation about myself."
"My Mr. Talbot?" She leaned forward. "Tell me, do you like him?"
She hadn't heard a word I had said. Next time, husband to be or not, I would not let her comments go unchallenged. Sighing, I let go of her hand and stood up. "He seems respectable enough."
"Respectable? Is that all you have to say about him? You are impossible, Luke!"
I shook my head at her. "Philly, I just met him. A few minutes acquaintance is hardly enough time to form a lasting opinion. I will say he is of a serious disposition, but it appears he genuinely cares for you."
Philippa's cheeks flushed red. "You think so?"
"Yes, but you do not need your vanity appeased anymore so I will not say any more about it."
The door opened, and Rosamund rushed in. "Philippa, my dear," she said, brushing past me without acknowledging me. She sat on the chair next to Philippa and reached over to grab my sister's hands. "I was just informed of Mr. Talbot's visit, and I am so sorry to have not been here for you when you needed me. Why did you not send for me sooner?"
"I did not want to disturb your visit with Mama," Philippa said, her enthusiasm and excitement returning to her voice. "Mr. Russell and Luke were here to make certain propriety was observed by all. Rosamund, he has told me who will be at the house party, and you will not guess who will be arriving!"
I left the room without a word, leaving them to discuss the upcoming weeks of activities.