thought about Sir Rex in any way except as a family friend, albeit a distant one.
“It is unbelievable that he would bed servants,” Felicia said with condescension. “How crude!”
Blanche felt the heat in her cheeks increase. “It cannot be true.”
“I overheard two maids discussing his prowess very frankly—one of the maids having been the recipient of that prowess,” Bess grinned.
Blanche stared at her, more uneasy now than before. “I really prefer we not discuss Sir Rex.”
“Why are you becoming the prude now?” Bess asked.
“It is reprehensible for a nobleman to dally with the servants,” Felicia said swiftly, obviously determined to be catty.
“Well, I enjoyed my gardener very much,” Bess shot, referring to an old affair.
Blanche didn’t know what to think. She would never judge Sir Rex; it wasn’t her nature to judge and condemn anyone. Still, it wasn’t really acceptable for noblemen to dally with the servants, but now and then, they did. A mistress was acceptable, as long as vast discretion was used. Sir Rex probably kept a mistress. And now she was thinking about Sir Rex in a way she had no wish to continue. How had this conversation begun? Did he really have a reputation for stamina and skill? She truly did not wish to know!
“When was the last time you spoke with Rex de Warenne?” Bess now asked.
This was far safer ground. And Blanche didn’t have to think about it. “At Amanda de Warenne’s comeout—before she married Captain de Warenne.”
Bess gaped. “Are you telling me you have pined for a man you haven’t seen in two years?”
Blanche sighed and smiled. “Bess, I am not pining for him. And that was a year and a half ago. And frankly, I have had enough discussion for one day.” She stood abruptly, her feet hurting, too, forgetting all about the most enigmatic de Warenne.
Bess also rose, but like a terrier with a bone, plunged on. “Darling, do you realize that Sir Rex has not presented himself as a suitor?”
“Of course I do.” She hesitated. “I know what you are thinking—he needs a fortune and a wife, so that lapse is odd. Obviously he is not yet inclined toward matrimony.”
“How old is he?” Bess asked.
“I think he is thirty, but I am not sure. Please, Bess, stop. I can see where you lead. Do not think to match me with Sir Rex!”
“I have distressed you,” Bess finally said. “And you are never dismayed. I am sorry, Blanche. It must be the strain of your comeout. I would never match you against your will—you know that.”
Blanche was relieved. “Yes, I know. But you did begin to worry me—we both know how tenacious you can be. Bess, I cannot bear the strain of these suitors—and it is only the first day. If you do not mind, I am going to retire for the evening.”
Bess hugged her. “Go and have a hot bath. I’ll leave instructions for supper to be sent to your room, and I will see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Blanche smiled at her friend, embraced Felicia and left the two of them alone together, and as they started whispering, she knew they were discussing her. It didn’t matter. They had her best interests at heart and she was truly exhausted. Besides, she had to escape the conversation about Sir Rex. It had been oddly disturbing.
“I SEE YOU ARE SCHEMING,” Felicia declared.
Bess seized her hand. “I think Blanche is finally interested in a man—even if she doesn’t know it. My God—and for how long? I believe she has known him for eight years!”
Felicia gaped. “Surely you do not think she likes Rex de Warenne? He truly is a rude, boorish man with a highly defective character!”
“I was eavesdropping when she spoke to the countess of Adare. I am not sure she even realizes her interest. Her expression changed completely when she began asking about Sir Rex and her color heightened. And Felicia, when is she ever distressed? Or embarrassed by our chats? And she is insulted by his failure to send condolences! No one can insult Blanche.”
Felicia was aghast. “She can do better! How can she prefer him? He is so black.”
“He is very dark—some women prefer brooding men. You are piqued because he turned you down. If Blanche has any interest in Sir Rex, we must do something about it.”
Felicia sighed. “If you are right, if Blanche has any interest in him, then we should do something about it. But, God, I hope you are wrong.” Then, “What are you planning?”
Bess hushed her. “Let me think.” She began to pace.
“He will be in town in May,” Felicia offered.
“May is too far away.”
Silently, Felicia agreed with that.
Bess turned. “You do know the saying—if one can’t lead the pony to the cart, one brings the cart to the pony.”
“They also say one cannot force the horse to drink, even if he is led to the trough.”
“We are going to Cornwall,” Bess said flatly.
Felicia could think of nothing worse. Cornwall was the end of the world—and at this time of year, freezing cold. “Please, no. I have just remarried and I happen to like my new husband.”
Bess waved at her dismissively. “Oh, we will plan a little ladies’ holiday—but when it is time to depart, you will be ill and my daughter will have suffered a riding accident.”
Felicia’s eyes widened.
Bess continued, smiling, “I do think in a week’s time, Blanche will need to escape this crush—in fact, I am certain she will wish to do nothing more. And we, her dearest friends, will convince her to take a holiday at Harrington’s estate in the south.”
“I didn’t know Harrington had an estate in Cornwall.”
“He doesn’t. At least, not that I know of. But I have been helping Blanche sort through the vast fortune she has been left, and I will make a few interesting adjustments to her papers. So you see, there really is a small estate in Cornwall—just kilometers from Land’s End. Imagine what she will have to do when she arrives and realizes there has been a mistake. Surely, surely, Sir Rex will not turn her away.”
Felicia slowly smiled. “You are so bloody brilliant,” she said.
“I am, aren’t I?”
CHAPTER TWO
HE SWUNG HIS HAMMER as hard as he could, driving the nail so deeply into the beam that the head became level with the wood. Sweat blinded his vision and poured down his naked torso. He swung again, and the head of the nail vanished. But Rex knew that the savage physical exertion would not change anything.
Although almost ten years had passed, he saw the Spanish Peninsula as if he was there still. Canons fired
