recently passed his fortieth birthday. ‘My homing instinct is as keen as it ever was.’
Vernon glanced over his shoulder, then quirked a brow at Leo. ‘I can see that.’
Leo narrowed his eyes at his brother. ‘She’s married.’
Having been in the position of cuckolded husband himself, Leo was not about to inflict that indignity on any other man.
‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘we are only here another ten days. If I stay that long.’
‘Still fretting about Olivia?’
‘I do not fret.’
He was a duke: head of a large extended family, wealthy, powerful. Nothing could threaten him.
‘Cecily is wise to Olivia’s wiles and tricks,’ Vernon went on, in complete disregard of Leo’s obvious wish to be done with the topic. ‘Lord, that girl is a minx, Leo.’
Leo knew it. His only daughter and youngest child, eighteen-year-old Olivia was on the brink of her introduction to polite society. Her upbringing alongside her older brothers had instilled in her a deeply felt sense of injustice at the unfairness that allowed them so much more freedom than she could now enjoy. Leo had left her in London in the care of his sister, Cecily, who had raised Leo’s children after their mother was murdered.
‘I said I do not—’
‘And Beauchamp House is more secure than the Tower of London,’ Vernon went on, seemingly oblivious to Leo’s growing irritation. ‘They will be safe without you for a couple of weeks.’
Leo curbed his exasperation. Families! They saw too much and they understood too much. He might have no need to fret, but that did not stop him worrying about his children, and Vernon knew it. ‘And Alex?’ he said. ‘Who will keep a tight rein on him?’
The younger of his two sons, Alexander was twenty, and growing more sullen and secretive by the day.
‘Avon will keep him out of trouble...at least he gives you no cause for concern.’
Dominic, Marquess of Avon, was Leo’s eldest son and the heir to the dukedom, who indeed gave Leo little cause for concern. In fact, he was almost too serious for such a young man. Leo’s heart clenched. Was it because his children had lost their mother so early in life that he worried so about them? An unusual feeling stirred, deep in his gut.
Fear. No, not fear. Vulnerability. That was it. He didn’t like the feeling. Not one bit. How he wished he could keep them all—particularly Olivia—shut away safely at Cheriton Abbey for the rest of their lives, even though the Abbey hadn’t proved a place of safety for Margaret, who had been violated and strangled in a summerhouse. The impossibility of completely controlling his family’s surroundings was a constant worry. Leaving London to come to Halsdon Manor—against his natural instincts to stay put and to protect—was how he proved to himself he would not succumb to this irrational fear.
Uncomfortable with such feelings and thoughts, he thrust them aside.
‘Come, let us catch up with the others,’ he said and nudged Conqueror into a trot.
They soon caught up with Richard, Lord Stanton, walking his horse on a loose rein, a preoccupied look on his face. A look, Leo guessed, that had everything to do with his new wife, Felicity—Leo’s cousin and former ward.
‘Where’s our esteemed host?’ Vernon asked.
‘Rode on ahead,’ Stanton said, with a curl of his lip. ‘That poor animal of his won’t last another year if he carries on riding him so hard. He can’t even be bothered to walk him home to cool him off gradually. Mind you...’ he slanted a look at Leo ‘...it’ll give him a chance to get that temper of his under control before you two meet again.’
Leo shrugged. ‘Anthony always had a nasty streak and it seems he hasn’t improved since he’s been away, not if that little interlude is anything to go by.’ His cousin had spent several years in the Americas, returning to England only a few months previously. ‘I suspected this trip was a bad idea, but I thought I owed him the benefit of the doubt when he invited me.’
Plus—although he would not admit it to the other men—he was a little relieved to leave London behind for a while. He could not bear yet another simpering young miss being thrust in front of his nose by ambitious parents keen to ally themselves with the house of Beauchamp. He did not want, or need, another wife. His first marriage had cured him of any desire to wed again.
‘You owe him nothing, Leo,’ Vernon said. ‘It’s hardly your fault Uncle Claude refused to marry his mother.’
‘But if he had married her, Lascelles would be the Duke now.’
‘He was right not to marry her,’ Stanton said. ‘An actress and a whore for a duchess? And can you imagine a man like Lascelles with that amount of power and wealth?’ He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking of.’
‘We can always go home earlier than planned if Anthony becomes too obnoxious,’ Vernon said. ‘There’ll be nothing else to keep us here once Stan’s had a look at those ponies for Felicity.’
Leo grunted in agreement as they rode through the gates of Halsdon Manor.
Stanton had been searching for a pair of ponies suitable for Felicity to drive and Lascelles knew of a suitable pair for sale by his neighbour, Sir William Rockbeare, a renowned horse breeder and trainer, prompting Stanton to join the hunting party. Unfortunately, on their arrival two days before, they had learned Sir William was away from home and not expected to return for almost a week.
Nothing else to keep us here...
The memory surfaced of the woman, stick in hand, facing up to Lascelles. Leo found himself hoping that there was indeed a Mr Pryce. There was no sense in getting entangled in anything unnecessarily. No sense at all.
* * *
‘You were gone a long time, Ros. Did Hector run you ragged?’
Rosalind hooked her shawl over a peg by the back door and smiled at Freddie, who was scratching Hector’s shaggy ears.
‘He tried to,’ she said. ‘Then, on the way back, the sheep were out in the lane again and it took an age to put them back into the field.’
She thrust the encounter with the gentlemen from Halsdon Manor to the back of her mind, determined not to trouble Freddie with what had happened. It would only worry him to no purpose, for there was nothing he could do. Hopefully Lascelles would remain occupied with his guests and then the Season would start, the hunting party would return to London to continue their lives of idle pleasure and Lascelles would forget all about their meeting.
‘I hope Sir William appreciates you keeping his sheep safe.’ Freddie lurched awkwardly down the passage, leaning heavily on his crutch, and disappeared through the door leading to the main rooms of their temporary home.
Rosalind followed her younger brother to the front parlour, where a welcoming fire flickered, lending a homely charm to the shabby room. It could not match Lydney Hall for comfort and space, but at least it was somewhere to call home.
‘It’s the least I can do when he refuses to accept any rent
