Devil in Spring (The Ravenels #3)(17)

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.” After a contemplative silence, Sebastian spoke again. “Why don’t you invite the Ravenels to Heron’s Point for a week? Give the girl a sporting chance, and become acquainted with her before you make a decision.”

“There’s no need to invite her entire family to Sussex for that. It’s more convenient for me to visit her here in London.”

His father shook his head. “You need to spend a few days away from your mistress,” he said frankly. “A man with your developed palate will enjoy the next course far more if you eliminate competing flavors.”

Frowning, Gabriel braced his hands on the edge of the table as he considered the suggestion. With each passing day, more people were hounding him about the incipient scandal. Especially Nola, who had already sent a half-dozen notes demanding to know if the rumors were true. The Ravenels must be fending off the same questions, and would probably welcome the opportunity to escape London. The estate at Heron’s Point, with its eleven thousand acres of woodland, farmland, and pristine shoreline, offered complete privacy.

His eyes narrowed as he saw his father’s bland expression. “Why are you encouraging this? Shouldn’t you be a bit more discriminating when it comes to the potential mother of your grandchildren?”

“You’re a man of eight-and-twenty who hasn’t yet sired an heir. At this point, I’m not inclined to be overparticular about whom you marry. All I ask is that you produce some grandchildren before your mother and I are too decrepit to pick them up.”

Gabriel gave his father a wry glance. “Don’t pin your hopes on Lady Pandora. In her opinion, marrying me would be the worst thing ever to happen to her.”

Sebastian smiled. “Marriage is usually the worst thing to happen to a woman. Fortunately, that never stops them.”





Chapter 4




Pandora knew she was about to receive bad news when Devon sent for her to come to his study without having requested Cassandra to come down as well. To make matters worse, Kathleen, who usually served as a buffer between Pandora and Devon, wasn’t there. She had gone for the afternoon to visit Helen, who was still in childbed after having given birth to a healthy son a week and a half ago. The robust dark-haired infant, named Taron, closely resembled his father—“Except prettier, thank God,” Mr. Winterborne had said with a grin. The boy’s name had derived from the Welsh word for thunder, and so far he had justified it in full measure every time he was hungry.

During the delivery, Helen had been attended by Dr. Garrett Gibson, a staff physician at Mr. Winterborne’s department store. As one of the first few women to have been certified as a physician and surgeon in England, Dr. Gibson was skilled and trained in modern techniques. She had taken excellent care of Helen, who’d had a difficult time during the delivery and had developed a mild case of anemia from loss of blood. The doctor had prescribed iron pills and prolonged bed rest, and Helen was improving every day.

However, Mr. Winterborne, who was overprotective by nature, had so far insisted on hovering over his wife every possible minute, neglecting the mountain of responsibilities accumulating at the store. No matter how Helen reassured him that she was in no danger of falling ill from childbed fever or some other dread condition, he remained at the bedside in a near-constant vigil. Helen spent most of her time reading, nursing the baby, and playing quiet games with Carys, her little half-sister.

This morning Helen had sent a note, begging Kathleen to visit so that Mr. Winterborne would go to his office and attend to some urgent business matters. According to Helen, Winterborne’s employees were all going mad without him, and she was going mad with him.

The house seemed abnormally quiet as Pandora reached Devon’s study. Slants of afternoon light bored through multipaned windows set in deep oak wainscoted recesses.

Devon stood as she entered the room. “I have news.” He gestured for her to take the chair beside the desk. “Since it involves Lord St. Vincent, I thought I should tell you before the others.”

Her heartbeats stumbled and collided at the sound of the name. Lowering herself to the chair, Pandora balled her hands in her lap. “What is it? Has he withdrawn his offer?”

“Just the opposite.” Devon sat and faced her. “St. Vincent has extended an invitation for all of us to visit his family’s estate in Sussex. We’ll stay for a week. It will allow both families to—”

“No,” Pandora said, popping up instantly, her nerves clamoring with alarm. “I can’t do that.”

Devon regarded her with a perplexed frown. “It’s an opportunity to become more familiar with them.”

That was exactly what Pandora feared. The Duke and Duchess of Kingston, and their brood of superior offspring, would be sure to look down their elegant noses at her. Only the thinnest veneer of politeness would cover their contempt. Every question they asked her would be a test, and every mistake she made would be noted and stored away for future reference.

Pandora paced around the perimeter of the room in agitation, her skirts whisking the air and sending dust motes swirling upward in tiny glinting constellations. Each time she passed the heavy pedestal desk, stacks of papers fluttered their edges in protest. “By the time they’re done with me, I’ll be gutted, drawn, and dressed like a trout ready for sautéing.”