Page 33 of Romancing the Artist

She shrugged one shoulder upward, then picked up the apple preserves. “No matter what you choose to do about your future, Edward, know that I support you. Father’s opinion isn’t the only one that matters. As his heir, you may have a duty to consider the well-being of everyone in our family. That includes you, too. And the future Mrs. Edward Everly, whomever she may be. As much as Mama wishes for Miss Kimball to take the position, the decision is yours alone. You know best who will suit you.”

Though he generally acknowledged Charity to have good sense, Edward hadn’t heard her opinions on the matter stated quite so clearly before. Or so cheerfully. “I appreciate your support,” he said at last, while she took a large bite of her apple-slathered toast.

She chewed with a thoughtful expression, staring at him until after she swallowed her bite. “You and I both know how it is when Papa is being stubborn. He will use Claude’s visit to convince you that he is right about settling down. I have watched you successfully avoid our parents’ wishes on that account for months now. There hasn’t been any need to worry about your ability to stand up for yourself. But when Claude is involved, he acts as a thorn in your side, and your judgement isn’t always the best. Keep your wits about you, Edward.”

She had a fair point. The constant irritant of Claude’s presence and Mr. Everly’s stubborn insistence could cause enough distraction to impair Edward’s judgement in all manner of ways. Including making a fool of himself, agreeing to things he shouldn’t, or forgetting his own good breeding and boxing his cousin during a formal dinner. Not that the last item had ever happened. But Edward had come quite close to leaping over a table to knock a smug grin off of Claude’s face.

“I’ll do my best to maintain my composure. And if things get too heated, I will remind myself that giving Claude a facer is likely not the best course of action.” He gave her a wry smile, though it didn’t do much to lighten his mood.

“It is odd,” Charity said, chewing thoughtfully at her toast again, “for Claude to invite himself for a visit. I cannot think he has ever done that before. He only ever attended us with the rest of his family. Do you suppose he said why he wished to come in the letter to Papa? There was a great deal of ink on those pages, considering how little we were told about the matter.”

Edward rubbed at his temples as tension built behind his eyes. “Claude is a pompous, arrogant lout. No doubt he filled every inch of paper with descriptions of his own self-importance.” He stood from the table. “I’m sorry to leave you alone at the table, but I cannot sit still at this moment.”

He needed air. And room to think.

“Patience will be along soon enough. Take care, Edward.” She waved her toast at him in farewell, and he returned the gesture with an absent-minded nod.

First his parents and their obsession with Mariah Kimball, now Claude coming to visit. He had counted on spending his summer in leisure, enjoying the comforts of home, the pleasure of time spent among friends, and all of it without complication.

“I’d have avoided more trouble had I gone on a jungle expedition,” he muttered to himself as he left his family home behind him, making for the stables, thinking only of the pleasure of riding away from all of it well into the afternoon.

Chapter 11

Edward hadn’t stumbled upon the sprite in the grove of birch trees. Nor had he seen her anywhere along the path to the beach, though he rode his horse slowly enough that there was ample opportunity to come across another person. When he glanced up to the terraced gardens of Inglewood Castle, they were empty save for a single gardener.

He couldn’t return home. Not yet. Not while the idea of his cousin Claude’s smirks made Edward want to quit the entire county. He needed to calm himself still. Distract his mind from the unpleasant knowledge of the impending invasion. And his father’s expectation that Edward thwart his cousin’s hopes of inheriting the Refuge.

But what else could he do? After giving his horse a half hour more of exercise, Edward returned home. Yet no sooner did he enter the stable yard than he realized the small gig his sisters drove about the country roads stood waiting. He dismounted and dismissed the groom who came forward to take his horse. “I think he and I are going out again,” Edward said, giving the gelding a pat on his neck. “If my sisters will accept my escort.”

“You are only invited if you promise not to be dull company,” Patience said from behind him, and Edward turned back toward the house to see his sisters had come out, still adjusting gloves and reticules.

“We are bound for a shopping expedition,” Charity informed him, a little smile upon her lips. “Mama has requested more smelling salts from the apothecary, and we have a mind to look in on every shop in the village to purchase whatever strikes our fancy.”

“I hadn’t thought either of you possessed the nature of a spend-thrift.” Edward tipped his hat up higher on his forehead.

Charity raised her eyebrows at him while Patience snorted and stepped into the gig, with the helping hand of a groom.

“Why is it that men accuse women of such things when they take even the smallest delight in a purchase?” Charity asked. “And today is a special circumstance. There are frustrations to work from our minds. Neither of us are pleased about our impending visit from Cousin Claude.”

“He is as oily as an eel,” Patience said from her seat, giving her head a toss.

“The purchase of a book or fan, or perhaps ordering an entirely new bonnet, will go far in soothing our spirits.” Charity stepped into the gig next. “You ought to try it, Edward. Shopping can be a lovely distraction from unwanted thoughts or undesirable circumstances.” She winked at him.

Though their reasoning lacked all sense or logic, Edward shrugged and mounted his horse. “What sort of brother would I be if I did not offer you my escort during this trying time?”

Patience and Charity exchanged wide smiles, then Charity gave the horses the command to drive on.

The village of Alderton wasn’t all that large, but it boasted enough shops to entertain a handful of nobles and two dozen families of the gentry. As it was but three miles from their home, it made for easy comings and goings for the Everly family, too. Their nearest town of greater import and size was Ipswich at twenty miles distance.

Edward and his mount trotted along in front of his sisters, listening to the murmur of their voices as they conversed, though he was unable to join in the conversation himself.

His horse didn’t mind that they were off again. The mount stepped lightly, his ears perked forward. Whether it the fine weather, or simply something new to occupy his mind, Edward found himself relaxing to near-enjoyment.

What a fool he’d been to suppose he needed to encounter Miss Caroline Clapham to rescue himself from agitation. All the time out of doors had cured him.

Somewhat.

Well. Mostly.