Part 16 (1/2)

”I should like that very much.”

Middleton took her firmly in hand, and Ava liked that-she liked the feeling of belonging with him.

Perhaps the awkward moment on the drive had been an aberration, the result of fatigue. Perhaps everything would be very nice between them.

Perhaps her nerves, now a.s.suaged by the whiskey, would settle down.

But if anything, they grew worse. Their tour took more than an hour. Middleton pointed out the historical facets and where the monks had once lived, their cells now converted to servants' quarters. He showed her the west drawing room, which had once been a chapel, and the various wings and rooms and artwork that had been added through the centuries. Too nervous to focus on the art and architecture of the grand old abbey, Ava asked few questions about his revered family's history, and he told her very little.

In fact, Middleton became less talkative as the tour wore on. He just kept looking at her in a way that made her feel incredibly exposed. Her skin tingled with the intensity of his gaze, and Ava could scarcely think-her trepidation at what was to come growing more acute by the hour.

By the time they had returned to the salon, Dawson was waiting to take them in to dinner.

The smaller family dining room was a size that most would consider to be a formal dining room, large enough to seat two dozen. At the far end of the table, two place settings had been arranged. Middleton' s, at the head of the table, and Ava's, to his right. Two footmen stood silently next to a large buffet, on top of which were six silver-domed platters.

Dawson held the chair out for her; Ava slid into it self-consciously. As accustomed as she was to formal dining, this seemed far more formal, and bigger. But Middleton gave her a smile and a slight wink as he took his seat. ”A lot of pomp and circ.u.mstance to eat one fat hen, isn't it?”

She smiled gratefully at his attempt to put her at ease, but as Dawson poured wine, her nerves felt as if they were all but exposed, hovering just beneath the surface of her skin, ready to explode. She drank the wine and pushed her food around, her appet.i.te completely crushed under her anxiety.

Middleton, however, didn't seem to be bothered. He made small talk as he ate, asked her about the sorts of things that amused her.

”I'm not certain I know what you mean.”

”What sorts of things do you like to do? Besides your charitable work, of course,” he added with a devilish smile.

”Oh. Well. I suppose I like to read-”

”What do you read?”

”Novels,” she said. ”Popular novels, particularly.”

”Ah. Stories of love and l.u.s.t,” he said, his gaze dipping to her lips as he reached for his winegla.s.s.

”And the daily newspapers,” she added quickly. ”I particularly enjoy the on dits. Phoebe and I make a game of out of it.”

”The sort of game that supposes which gentleman is in which lady's bed?” he asked, idly watching her.

Ava didn't answer-her face burned with the truth.

”Or perhaps you enjoy another sort of game,” he suggested, his voice dropping to a low pitch. ”Wondering which gentleman you would like to find in your bed?””Of course not,” she said instantly.Middleton smiled at her obvious lie but nodded gallantly. ”I beg your pardon, madam. I did not know you, your sister, and your cousin were as chaste as that.”

”We...” Her voice trailed off, and she cast her gaze to her plate. She tried to think of something wittyand clever to say to her husband, but nothing came to her.He smiled and picked up his fork. ”What else amuses you?””Music,” she said. ”I like the pianoforte, although I play it wretchedly. Greer is the talented one among us. And I like dogs, I think. Not cats, especially, for they are rather aloof. But I enjoy seeing the dogs in the park. They seem friendly and exceedingly loyal. And, oh yes, I do enjoy a good walkabout.”

”You shall have plenty of room to roam at Broderick Abbey.”

She tried to picture herself walking around the grounds of Broderick Abbey, the lady of the manor, and the image brought a smile to her face. How absurd! Ava Fairchild, a marchioness!

”There we are, at last-a lovely smile,” he said, smiling, too. ”What amuses you at this moment?””The idea that I should be a marchioness. Or a d.u.c.h.ess, for that matter.””I suspect you will be a very good one. I have all faith.””Your faith in me is very much appreciated, but very much undeserved.” Before he could politely argue, she asked, ”What amuses you, my lord?””Hmm,” he mused, his brow wrinkled with thought. ”I suppose horses rather than dogs, although I had adog as a lad and I was quite fond of him. Hunting rather than walking. I do enjoy music. And reading, although I must confess I have never read a popular novel of l.u.s.t and love,” he added with a sly smile. ”Perhaps we might indulge in one together.”Ava pretended to study her winegla.s.s. ”What was your dog's name?” she asked, avoiding any mention of l.u.s.t or love.”His name?” He grinned. ”Doogie.”Ava laughed.”What?””That is a wretched name for a dog.””I beg your pardon?” he asked, feigning offense. ”It is a perfectly suitable name for a cur!””It is perfectly suitable for a stableboy. Not a dog!””And who are you, madam, to declare what is a suitable dog's name?” he teased her. ”I will have you know that I spent hours determining the perfect name for him. Now, then, to be fair, you must tell me the

name of your childhood pet.”

”I did not have a dog, I had a canary,” Ava informed him. ”And as there were three of us, the namingwas not done entirely on my own.””Very well, what did the three of you name your pet canary?””b.u.t.termilk,” Ava said, and smiled, pleased that he should laugh so roundly at that.He asked about her childhood-Bingley Hall, the move to London after her father died and her mother remarried. She told him about her debut into society, and her presentation at court, and how she had

accidentally spilled wine on the prince regent's velvet shoe at the ball afterward.She talked at length about her mother. It felt good to talk about her; it helped to lessen her anxietysomewhat. And it was good to speak of her to someone other than Phoebe and Greer, to someone whohad not known how lovely she was so that Ava could say it aloud. She even spoke of herself, and ofPhoebe and Greer, too, of Greer's foray into Wales and Phoebe's despair that she'd been abandoned.

”We shall send for her once you are with child,” he said instantly.

A flood of heat invaded her face, and Ava glanced down at her lap, feeling b.u.t.terflies at the mere mention

of a child in her womb. All the anxiety she had managed to push down suddenly rose up again. ”Thankyou. It would be good to have her with me.”He paused in his dining and looked at her. ”Is something wrong?”She shook her head.He reached for her hand, covered it with his and held it for a moment. ”Rest east, Lady Middleton,” he said at last. ”There are greater things in life to fear.””I hardly fear children, my lord.”He smiled a little lopsidedly. ”I was hardly referring to children.”Dear G.o.d. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest as he gazed at her, his eyes roaming her face, dipping to her decolletage, which she knew very well to be quite revealing, and then up again, lingering on

her lips before giving her a roguish smile and letting go of her hand.Ava's insides churned with antic.i.p.ation and fear all at once. Yet somehow, she made herself pick up herfork. ”And what of your childhood, sir?” she asked. ”Where was it spent?”

He answered vaguely. His childhood, he said, was rather dull, spent in boarding schools and in Europe. His house in London was bought from his uncle, who was now deceased. Broderick Abbey was his seat, and while he didn't spend as much time here, he rather liked it here, and was trying to inst.i.tute some agricultural changes that would earn a better yield from the land.

”And your father?”He glanced up from his plate and regarded her suspiciously. ”What of him?”The chill in his voice startled her. ”You haven't mentioned him.””Why would I?”

Why? After the interview in his father's study, and the obvious animosity between father and son, he would ask why? Ava blinked. ”I don't know...he just seemed so...displeased...about us,” she reminded him.

Middleton looked at his plate. ”I wouldn't bore you with the unpleasant history of my relations.h.i.+p with my father. You wouldn't understand.”

”Of course I would,” she retorted, ruffled by his dismissive response.

But Middleton sighed and gave her a stern look she'd never seen from him before now. ”All right, then, here you are, Lady Middleton. He is generally displeased because I am not, nor have I ever been, the son he wanted. He considers me f.e.c.kless and undeserving, for we are not cut of the same cloth, he and I. ”

”But how is that-”

”If you wouldn't mind, it is really neither here nor there,” he said, cutting her off. ”I've little enough to do with him as it is and I'd rather not discuss it.” With that, he looked at Dawson. ”You may clear these things away. Lady Middleton and I would retire now.”

Dawson and the footmen instantly began moving. But Ava, startled by his quick decision and his black look, didn't move. Jared came to his feet and walked around to Ava's chair. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned down, so that his lips were against her ear. ”You look as if you are expected in the gallows, madam.” He straightened up, pulled her chair back, and helped Ava to her feet. Then he took up the wine and the two gla.s.ses they had drunk from and nodded to the door. ”To the gallows, then.”