But she wasn’t old enough to declare herself a spinster and put her brother off on his attempts to bring her out of her shell. That meant she would have to endure and find these little pockets of respite where she could claim them.
Amelia climbed into the rig, her cheeks bright and her lips red. From being kissed, no doubt. Hugh definitely loved to kiss her. And Amelia seemed to enjoy it, too. Lizzie shivered. Kissing was fine, she supposed, but it led to trouble.
Hugh waved from the door as they rode off, and Amelia watched him intently from the window until they turned from the drive. Only then did she let out a shuddering breath before she smiled through tear-brightened eyes at Lizzie. “You needn’t worry, love,” she said as she dug for a handkerchief in her pelisse pocket.
Lizzie nodded as she found her own and handed it over. She adored her sister-in-law with all her heart and didn’t want to worry her more than she knew she already did. Amelia was so kind. “I’m sure I don’t. Hugh knows how to handle himself.”
“But you still have concerns about this man coming to Brighthollow and disturbing your peace,” Amelia said softly.
Lizzie worried her lip. There it was, the exact feeling that burned inside of her. Yes, Hugh could handle himself. So could Amelia. So could everyone else in her small circle of acquaintances and friends, it seemed. She was the only one who struggled. Or at least it felt that way.
“I suppose,” she said slowly. “In the end, what does it have to do with me? Nothing at all. If Hugh does judge this Morgan Banfield as worthy for the job of his man of affairs, then I’ll probably hardly see him, at any rate.”
She would make sure of it, but that was hardly a necessary point to add.
Amelia smiled. “Indeed, that is likely true. He’ll be very busy learning all the facets of his job that Hugh has handled on his own for so long.”
Those words brought Lizzie up short. Her brother had taken on the duties of duke and as her guardian at such a young age. For years he had handled it all, never complaining, never putting voice to any pain he might have suffered. When he met Amelia, Lizzie had loved watching him open up. Blossom was the word for it, though she doubted her brother would fully appreciate the flowery verbiage.
If Hugh wished to hand off some of his duties so he could enjoy time with his wife and the family she knew they were both hoping to start, who was she to behave like a petulant child?
“You’ll only rarely cross paths,” Amelia added, oblivious to Lizzie’s thoughts.
Lizzie nodded and tried to clear her mind of her worries. They mattered little at the moment, and Hugh might not even hire the man. So there was no use preparing for the worst, even if it had become her nature to do so in the past few years.
“Did you bring the book?” Lizzie asked, pushing the difficult subjects out of the way as she vowed to enjoy the next few days with her friend. She and Amelia were rarely able to spend time alone, and she cherished it.
“I did!” Amelia said, and pulled from her reticule a novel they had each been interested in and decided to take turns reading aloud to each other on the trip to Brighthollow. “The Children of the Abbey! Are you ready for a tale of desperate romance and stolen inheritance?”
“Always,” Lizzie said with a laugh that helped to dispel her fears.
Amelia opened the book to the first page and smiled across the carriage. “Then let’s begin.”
Lizzie settled back against the carriage seat and closed her eyes so she could better picture the story about to unfold. It would be a good way to forget her troubles. A good way to forget the world.
Morgan shifted in his place on the settee as he and Roseford waited for Brighthollow to join them. In the hours he’d taken to ready himself, his throbbing head had gotten a bit better and he no longer felt like he would cast up his accounts. He was almost human again. Or as close as he ever got.
The door to the parlor opened, and both Morgan and Robert rose as the tall, handsome Duke of Brighthollow entered the room. Morgan watched as his brother crossed to his old friend. The two men embraced, pounding each other’s backs and exchanging warm and obviously genuine expressions of reunion.
Morgan had to fight not to turn away from it. Robert was all ease with his duke friends. Their club was his home, their friends his family. Morgan was…well, he knew he was a responsibility his brother didn’t really want and not much more.
“Hugh, may I present my brother, Morgan Banfield,” Roseford said, forcing Morgan to jerk himself to the present moment and out of maudlin thoughts.
Brighthollow stepped forward with a hand outstretched in greeting. There was no hesitance as he caught Morgan’s hand and gave it a firm, certain shake. “A pleasure to officially make your acquaintance at last. I’ve seen you from time to time out in Town and I’ve heard so much about you.”
Morgan stiffened as he sent his brother a look. “I’m sure Roseford’s assessment of me highlights all my best qualities.”
The warmth on Brighthollow’s face faded a fraction, replaced by a slightly protective shadow. “Roseford has never expressed anything but consideration for you, Mr. Banfield. And I welcome you to my home. Please, do sit. Would you like tea or something stronger?”
Roseford shook his head as he retook his seat on the settee and Morgan settled across from him in a chair. “Banfield doesn’t need anything stronger.”
Morgan glared at him again. “So my nursemaid says. I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
“Hmm,” Brighthollow murmured, and took a place beside Robert. Now there were two sets of eyes focused on Morgan. Judging.
He didn’t like the judgment. Never had. And he’d learned over the years that the best way to thwart it was through charm. He’d honed his skills in that arena well and good.
“I’ve heard you’ve a fine prospect,” Morgan said.
Brighthollow puffed up a bit, just as Morgan had known he would. “We think it so,” he admitted. “I would say it is the most beautiful in the world, but Roseford might argue.”
Robert shrugged. “You know I can take or leave my father’s holdings. Though I’d argue Ewan has the best of all our estates. He has the benefit of a sea view. That has to be worth something.”
Morgan shifted again as the long friendship Robert and Brighthollow had shared with their club pushed him from the inner circle of the conversation. He wasn’t certain who Ewan was, but believed he was one of the dukes his brother ran with.
“I’m sure Ewan would agree,” Brighthollow chuckled. “But we are straying from the topic that has brought you here, even though Mr. Banfield opened a window to it a moment ago. I am in the market for a man of affairs. And Roseford says you might be the man for the job.”
Morgan shifted. “He tells me the same thing. I-I suppose we must determine together if that is true. Can you tell me about your expectations?”
Brighthollow’s eyebrows lifted, as if he were surprised Morgan had the wherewithal to question the offer. That didn’t bode well to his potential employer’s judgment of his sense.
“It’s a large estate, with a great many holdings and tenants to manage.” Brighthollow leaned back in the settee and folded his hands in his lap. “There are books to be kept, problems to be managed, people with questions that never seem to end.”