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“Lord Miles!” Glenora McIntyre, a wealthy widow, called from the grounds to his right. “Care to join me?”
As he neared the wealthy woman’s canopy, his stomach sank. He’d considered seducing the woman in order to gain the capital for the ship, as Glenora was quite wealthy. In her forties, widowed, bored, and lonely, she remained very attractive. But suddenly, the idea of seducing the woman was not as appealing a proposition as it had been. She was suddenly too old, too jaded, and the idea of entertaining her now seemed unpleasant. Something had shifted in him, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
Still, he needed to be polite. Miles dismounted and after handing the reins of his mount to one of her footmen, he strolled to greet her. “Lady McIntyre, it is nice to see you,” Miles said, taking her proffered hand and kissing it. He then took her companions in. Two women and a man whom he’d met once or twice. After he’d made his salutations, Glenora invited him to join their party. If he changed his mind in order to win the wager and were to approach Glenora for money, he had to know what the woman would ask of him. At the moment, he had no desire to even try.
“I am looking for Mother,” Miles said, not quite lying, though it was mostly an excuse to leave and search for Siobhan. So after he made his greetings, he gathered his horse from the footman and proceeded to walk along the path.
Such folly, to be so obsessed with the woman. He wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with her, after all. But still, she was so intriguing woman, so unlike any other. She was always up to something unexpected, he decided. Who wouldn’t want to know more? Her beauty and that peculiar tingle from when they’d touched had nothing to do with his interest. It was because of her unpredictability, her sense of humor, and her extraordinary kindness and willingness to help others less fortunate. So she wasn’t just beautiful on the outside, she had a beautiful heart.
He mused about this as he walked. The pathway led him past several families who enjoyed extraordinary spreads while drinking sparkling champagne. He acknowledged several of them as expected, before noting whom he sought.
On a bench, holding parasols to hide them from the sun, were Amelia and her mother, who were speaking to another pair of women. Meanwhile Siobhan stood nearby in the bright sunshine. She was laughing as she threw pieces of bread to an aggressively quacking flock of ducks, who surrounded her and flapped their wings at one another.
He circled around to avoid walking in front of the others and came up to Siobhan’s left.
At first she frowned, then smiled at him. Just seeing her smile made something stir in his chest. “Miss Blair. I am pleased to see you again so soon.”
She hitched her chin and both her brows rose. “I told you they had planned an outing.” Siobhan nodded in the direction of her sister and mother. “I must admit, it is a perfect day for it. Care to toss some crumbs?” She held out the basket of stale bread.
He reached for a handful and tossed it out across the water so the birds would move away. “I’m afraid my gray might stomp one,” he admitted. “He really needs the exercise.”
She gave a laugh, which was what he’d intended. “Well then, duck stomping might be a way to do it, though I daresay it is rather—”
“Lord Miles, what a pleasant surprise!” Amelia had gotten off the bench and moved to stand between them. When she slid a look to her sister, there was a silent message in her expression which Miles didn’t quite understand.
It was obvious Siobhan did, because she narrowed her eyes. “Sister, Lord Miles was just telling me he brought his horse out to enjoy the beautiful weather—and to see the ducks.” Her lips curved as she glanced quickly at him, sharing their joke.
Amelia barely glanced at the horse. “Lord Miles, you must know how happy I am to see you. We did not get much of an opportunity to speak the other night.”
“Siobhan,” their mother called out then. “Come sit with me for a moment. Get out of the sun.”
There was no subtlety to what happened. Zinnia Blair wished for him and Amelia to be able to speak privately. Miles looked around, hoping to see someone to use as an excuse to leave. Unfortunately no one was near enough.
“Would you take me for a turn, my lord?” It was more of an order than a request. Courtesy demanded he comply, and he held his arm out.
They strolled around the pond away from Siobhan with him leading his horse behind them. “I am sure you have received plenty of requests from gentlemen since the season started.” He began the conversation with what he hoped would lead to letting her know he was not interested in a relationship.
“You flatter me, my lord,” Amelia replied, her eyes moving to him then back to the path in front of them. “There have been a few. I will take my time before deciding. I must admit to feeling disappointed you were not among the callers.”
Miles assumed the most neutral expression he could. “It is important you know that I am not interested in courting or marrying.”
Amelia hesitated for a moment, her steps faltering. “Is that so? May I inquire why?”
He didn’t owe this woman anything. Certainly not an explanation or reason for how he wished to live his life. “We should return. I cannot dally. I am supposed to be looking for my mother and sister.”
Despite his statement, Amelia was not put off. “Of course, you will marry. You are your father’s only heir. Upon his passing, you are to become the Duke of Spencer and must therefore produce an heir.” Her stating the obvious in such an uncouth and uncaring manner annoyed him, and he took a breath to keep from telling the woman to mind her business.
“One day perhaps. But I doubt that will be for a few years, and it is certainly nothing to which I look forward.”
The woman’s face hardened, her jaw set, and her lips pressed into a tight line. It was a hard and calculating expression, and showed, he decided, how she differed from her sister, who would never focus on his title or point out how his father’s death was something positive. “It is a pity you’re not searching for your wife now, when the perfect women are available to you. You may lose out on obtaining their hand.”
Although he was aware she was insinuating herself, Miles looked at where Siobhan now stood closer to the edge of the pond, apparently communing with her feathered friends. She was bending low and reaching out to them with wiggling fingers.
“I have been told that when the right person comes along, they have the power to change our mind,” he said unintentionally.
Amelia tossed her head and snarled, “Indeed,” as she looked at Siobhan, who now appeared to be studying the aquatic plants. Perhaps she sought frogs, or fish. It was hard to tell, with Siobhan, which of course made him want to leave this calculating miss to find out. And Amelia could tell he was inattentive to her wiles.
He wondered if she knew how ugly her narcissism made her, especially in comparison to her sister, a woman who was more concerned with the welfare of others than of her own reputation and desires. If only he truly was in the market for a wife. He knew exactly what kind of woman he would choose, and she was nothing like Amelia.
