“One could?” he teased. “Or one does?”
His smile nearly stole her breath. “Are you attempting to extract a compliment from me, Mr. Stanton?”
“Heaven forbid. I am merely trying to ascertain whether you inadvertently gave me one.”
She pursed her lips and pretended to give the matter grave thought. “My goodness. It appears I did.”
“Then I thank you, my lady. Indeed, I don’t believe I’ve ever been called ‘stunning’ before. Tell me, did Spencer tell you about our adventures in the village?”
“Yes, although apparently not everything, as he didn’t wish to ruin your surprise. It sounds as if you two had a jolly time.”
“We did.”
“He said that quite a few people looked at him rather oddly, but that ‘Mr. Stanton fixed everything.' He said you introduced yourself and Spencer to everyone you met, and to all the shopkeepers whose stores you visited.”
Mr. Stanton nodded. “When people realized he was your son, they were very kind. Everyone we spoke to sent you their best regards. Some people did stare, but I assured Spencer they were most likely only curious, not unkind.”
“He told me that you said if anyone was unkind to him, you’d pound the, um, piss out of them.”
“My exact words,” Mr. Stanton agreed without hesitation.
She couldn’t contain the grin pulling at her lips. “Well, while the method might perhaps be a bit uncivilized, I’m grateful for the thought. I trust the good people of Little Longstone did not see fit to make you put your pugilistic talents to use?”
“They were all the personification of kindness. In fact, we even saw someone I know. One of the museum investors.”
“Oh? Who was that?”
“Mrs. Warrenfield. She suffers from numerous maladies and is visiting Little Longstone to take the waters. She mentioned the duke’s party this evening-I assume she’ll be attending.” He hesitated, then said, “You were surprised that Spencer wished to venture into the village.”
“In truth, I was stunned. Spencer loves to wander about the estate, walking to the springs and strolling in the gardens. The property is private, and I’m grateful he has such a place, where he can strike out on his own a bit as it builds his strength and allows me to not worry-which, I’m afraid, I tend to do. But he’s always been adamant about not wanting to venture off the grounds; some years ago I simply stopped asking if he wanted to join me.”
“I realize you were worried about him, worried for him, and I appreciate that you trusted me enough to allow him to accompany me. Spencer appreciated it as well.”
“I didn’t doubt he was in good hands. While I freely admit I was concerned that someone might hurt Spencer’s feelings, I was confident that you wouldn’t hesitate to-”
“Pound the piss out of them? It would have been my very great pleasure.”
She lowered her gaze, and she plucked at the satin strings on her reticule. “After Spencer told me about your afternoon in the village, I told him about the shooting.” Looking up, she met his gaze squarely. “I give you leave to say ‘I told you so. ’”
“He was upset.”
“That is putting it mildly. He insisted I tell him every detail, questioning me in a manner I suspect a Bow Street Runner might use to interrogate a crime suspect. It required a great deal of reassuring on my part to convince him I was fine.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, I’m perfectly fit.”
“Did that argument convince Spencer?”
“Not exactly. He demanded to see my injury. After he saw for himself that it was barely more than a scratch, our conversation took a turn for the better.”
“He was hurt that you hadn’t confided in him.”
“Hurt, angry, worried. His expression was one I hope to never see again.”
“Spencer worries about you just as you worry about him. We cannot always protect the people we love from worry, as much as we might want to. Sometimes we just have to let them worry.”
“Spencer said something very similar-right after he reminded me that he is no longer a child. He then made me promise never to hide something important from him.” One corner of her mouth lifted. “I, of course, extracted a similar promise from him.”
“So everything was well in the end.”
She nodded. “I believe in the back of my mind I had every intention of telling him, but I took umbrage at your telling me I should. I haven’t had a man underfoot telling me what to do in many years.”
“I’m certain you meant underfoot in the nicest way,” he said with a flash of his dimples. “And I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do. I was merely suggesting.”
“I realize that-now. However, at the time I reacted badly, and I’m sorry.” She shot him a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid that Today’s Modern Woman does not like being ordered about.”
He drew back in exaggerated surprise. “Indeed? I hadn’t noticed that at all.”
She laughed. “As for Spencer, he became very manly about wanting to take care of me.”
“Yes, well, I’m afraid that that is what men like to do with women they love-take care of them.”
His softly spoken words set up a fluttering in her stomach. “Yet Today’s Modern Woman can take care of herself.”
“Still, it is nice to have someone to share both the good and bad things life offers.”
She considered his words for several seconds, then nodded. “Yes, I suppose that is true.”
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees and regarded her solemnly. Her breath caught with awareness at his sudden proximity, filling her head with his clean, masculine scent. Her heart thumped hard at the serious expression in his dark eyes.
Silence swelled for several seconds, then he said, “Do you realize that we’ve been in this coach for nearly a quarter hour, and we’ve yet to argue? In fact, unless I am mistaken, we actually just agreed on something.”
She blinked. “By God, you’re right.”
“Again we agree!”
“And this in spite of the fact that the words ‘Today’s Modern Woman’ were spoken.”
“Three times,” he said.
“Twice.”
“Ah. I knew it was too good to last.”
She couldn’t help but smile at him, and she absorbed the warmth that suffused her when he smiled in return. The carriage jerked to a stop, and she forced her gaze away from him to look out the window. They’d arrived at Kelby Manor.
A house filled with people where she would not have to spend a cozy evening alone with Mr. Stanton. Which was precisely what she needed.
For, as their enjoyable carriage ride had just illustrated, Mr. Stanton was proving increasingly difficult to avoid and ignore.
Swirling a brandy in one of the duke’s fine crystal snifters, Andrew stood in a group of gentlemen who were discussing some nature of farming techniques. Or perhaps they were discussing sheep. Or was it finances? As his attention was firmly fixed across the room, he wasn’t quite certain.
Lady Catherine stood near the fireplace chatting with her friend Mrs. Ralston, and while he could have happily stared at Lady Catherine’s lovely profile all evening, he was currently more intent upon the men casting their gazes in her direction.
Based on the number of gentlemen attending whom Andrew had met at Lord Ravensly’s birthday party in London, the duke had obviously made good on his promise to invite his friends to take the waters. Standing near the punch bowl, Lords Avenbury and Ferrymouth were staring at Lady Catherine as if she were a sweet in the confectioner’s shop. Then there was Lord Kingsly, that married reprobate, eyeing her in a way that had Andrew tightening his grip on his snifter. And near the French windows stood Dr. Oliver, to whom Andrew had been introduced shortly after arriving, making what he assumed were his “mooning eyes” at Lady Catherine. It wouldn’t take much convincing for Andrew to blacken both of his damned mooning eyes-