“Good Lord—not a bluestocking, I hope.”
“No...no,” Tony mused, trying to call up Serafina’s face. “I remember she has quite a nice smile, when she can spare it, and the loveliest hair.”
“I didn’t know you were even acquainted with her. That is well done of you.”
“Unfortunately, she has most likely seen me make a fool of myself on more than one occasion, so that is no advantage to me.”
“Don’t let it prey on your mind— Amanda!” Lord Cairnbrooke shouted again, without even turning his head.
Tony jumped, and the door opened to admit a footman. “Lady Cairnbrooke has been waiting in the carriage, sir.”
“Just like her not to tell us.” Cairnbrooke solicitously helped his son out of the chair, but drew a grunt of surprise from him by clapping him on the shoulder.
* * *
Tony was looking very handsome, Sera thought, in spite of a slight pallor and his arm still being in a sling. The dinner was excellent; the conversation was a compromise. Not for the first time in her career as a hostess, Sera had to bridge the gaps between guests with divergent interests. Her father would have talked of nothing but finance, Lord Cairnbrooke of nothing but horses and the hunt. In politics they might have found common ground, but she decided not to risk it. Besides, that would let out Lady Amanda and Lady Jane, and poor Tony, who seemed to have scant interest in anything. Small wonder. He looked to be turning a little feverish, and it took all his effort to eat one-handed without a disaster.
Under his father’s menacing scrutiny, Tony made one sally at polite conversation and then subsided.
“Is that Belgium lace, my dear?” Lady Amanda asked.
“Yes, it’s very nearly the only thing I brought back with me,” Sera answered.
“You were in Belgium? When?” Tony asked, with a spark of interest.
“In the spring,” Sera said hesitantly, not wanting to remind him. “We thought it was safe to take a house there for the season. I had no idea it would get so exciting.”
“I should never have left you there just to come back and tend to business,” Barclay said with regret.
“But I chose to stay. None of us took Napoleon very seriously then.”
“You were trapped there, during the battle?” Tony asked eagerly.
“No. I suppose I could have left at any time, but I did not want to. The suspense was terrible. I wanted to know the worst as soon as possible. Fortunately, we won, but—”
“The cost was dear,” Tony said, looking away.
“Yes, my maid was scandalized when I ripped up my muslin dresses for bandages,” she said lightly, trying to divert his thoughts from his brother.
“You what?” asked Lady Amanda and Lady Jane in unison.
“We couldn’t sacrifice the sheets. We needed those for the wounded.”
“But you mean they carried wounded into our house?” sputtered her father.
“No, we carried them in, Marie and I. They were lying on every doorstep in Brussels. Not the most hard-hearted person could have shut the door on them. I must say, I never thought much of the ladies of the ton before that day, but I did not see one of them, not the most delicate beauty, refuse to help with the wounded. I was touched with admiration for them, and for the soldiers.”
“I had no idea,” said her father, appalled. “How long did this go on?”
“A few weeks, I think. We were so busy, I don’t perfectly remember.”
“I should have brought you home with me.”
“No, I’m glad I stayed.”
Tony gave her a heart-wrenching smile. It was not as though she had done anything for his brother. But he liked her for staying, all the same.
Lady Jane cleared her throat. Sera tore her eyes away from Tony and said, “Ladies, shall we go in to the drawing room?”
Lady Jane invited Lady Amanda upstairs to freshen up, and in the same sentence recommended Tony to go in and see Sera’s sketches of America. The attempt to throw them together was so blatant as to be embarrassing, but they both pretended not to notice, and Sera led Tony into the drawing room. She picked up a candelabra and carried it to one wall. “Here they are.”
“What?”
“The watercolors. You’d better at least be able to say you looked at them, but don’t feel compelled to compliment them. It was my father’s vanity that had them framed, not mine.”
“But they are remarkably good!” said Tony, in genuine surprise.
“Far better than you expected, in other words,” she taunted.
He laughed. “If you read minds, then you know why I am here.”
“By now I expect the kitchen maids know why you are here. My father wants to be rid of me so he can marry Lady Jane.”
“My father also wants to be rid of me,” he said darkly.
“Then we have something in common after all.”
“Would you dislike it excessively to be married to me?”
“Why, I think I could like it quite well, but I have a confession to make first.”
“You?”
“It’s only that I’m hopelessly bookish,” she said sadly, putting down the candles and seating herself on a sofa. “I have even been known, in the dark of night, to sit writing poetry.”
“Is that all? I suppose I had better tell you the worst about myself.” He sat on the edge of the sofa.
“There’s no need.”
“You mean you have heard all about me already.”
“Just what Lady Jane has told me, but that’s all in the past now. I would wish you to promise not to get shot again.”
“I shall do my best to avoid it in future,” he said shyly, “Do you wish me to delay my proposal, or—?”
“We would probably have to endure another one of these dinners.”
“In that case, will you marry me?” Tony asked with a rush.
“Yes.”
Tony had a little difficulty getting the ring out of his waistcoat pocket. Sera was impressed that he had thought to carry one with him. “This was Grandmother’s,” he said to her hand as he slid it on her finger.
Sera looked at the brilliant stone, and when she raised her head to say “It’s lovely,” he kissed her. She knew then she had not made a mistake. He was the one. She had been kissed by other men, but it had always felt as though they were taking something from her. With Tony she felt that he was giving her something.
“Shall we tell them?” he asked.
“Oh no, I think we should torture them as long as possible. Look what they have put you through.”
When the others came into the room, Tony was chuckling over Sera’s stories of her travels, and they only thought that the two of them were getting on well together. It wasn’t until they were leaving that she flashed the ring at them.
“You little devils! Why didn’t you tell us?” Barclay demanded.
Chapter Two
The wedding was a simple, private affair. There were only Lord and Lady Cairnbrooke