Under the Champagne Moon by Alina K. Field

Author:Alina K. Field [Field, Alina K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781944063498
Publisher: Havenlock Press
Published: 2024-04-11T18:30:00+00:00

Gareth paced the four walls of the Bicton Grange parlor, listening to the distant wails and screeches from the nursery floor.

The distracted maid answering the door had ushered him here and hurried out, promising to fetch someone without ever asking Gareth who he was calling on.

When the door creaked, Lady Ixworth entered, back straight, head regal, and a smile on her face that he’d call cheeky—perhaps even devious.

She was a lively one for an older lady. He understood why Sherington admired her so.

He crossed the room and greeted her.

“She’s gone into the village.” Lady Ixworth curved her hand around his arm and brushed her shoulder against his. “She took the housekeeper along in the gig. Helena is resting, the little girls are in the schoolroom arguing, Cora is in the kitchen, and so, you have me to keep you company.”

They’d reached a sofa, and she seated herself, patting the cushion next to her. “Do sit. Or do you want to run after Fleur?”

Her face had grown solemn, reminding him of his warmhearted granny when she had to administer discipline. He couldn’t help grinning. “Why do I sense a scold coming?”

“I never scold, Captain Ardleigh. I state what I think dispassionately.”

“Ah.” She was much like Fleur. “Well, then, perhaps I’m in for an interrogation?”

She raised her eyebrows and looked down her nose at him, rather like Wellington the one time he’d been in his lordship’s lofty presence.

“You have my full attention, my lady.”

“Fleur means to marry.”

“So she has told me.”

“And you, Captain? Do you mean to marry?”

“Do I mean to marry?” Irritation had crept into his voice. He cleared his throat. He was usually better at concealing his feelings. “I fear my income⁠—”

“Is small.” She waved a hand. “But you have a profession. And if there are no wars for you to fight, you are healthy and have a good head on your shoulders. You can find a position. Sherington speaks highly of you.” She pursed her lips. “My gel isn’t entirely penniless, you know. She has a pittance of an income her guardian preserved for her.”

Fleur had more than that. She had a family in France well on their way to wealth, a family that wanted to reclaim her. He stood and paced to the fireplace.

He’d planned to write to Marceau the previous evening, but when he returned to Sherington Manor, a letter from Marceau had awaited him. Fleur’s cousin would arrive in Reabridge in time for the harvest festival.

He needed to speak with Fleur before then, and before he shared her secrets with anyone else, even this lady who cared so much for her.

A rap on his arm brought his gaze back to Lady Ixworth. “Since you’re being intentionally obtuse today, let me be direct: you’re showing my gel a great deal of attention. Do you intend to offer for her?”

A bead of perspiration crept under his neckcloth. He returned to his seat on the sofa.

“Fleur has prospects beyond an impoverished soldier. I’ve just come from France and… I must speak to her first about the matter.

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