An Affair So Right (Rebel Hearts #4)(46)
“And the nights?” Theodora let her attention drift to his groin, and couldn’t help but notice a decidedly flattering bulge had formed there.
His eyes caught hers, and they softened slightly. “The nights will be decided by your invitation.”
“Come to me tonight,” she whispered, anticipation rippling over her skin. They’d never made love in her bedchamber before. She had always gone to him. But with mother preoccupied with her puppy, she depended less on Theodora for company.
“Not tonight. There will likely be too many servants running about,” he suggested. “I would like to visit you the next night, when we are settled into Newberry House, if you are agreeable.”
So long to wait, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped. Theodora nodded quickly. “I will speak to Mama about the necessity of the move and make sure the transition is smooth. I promise you’ll hardly notice her or Soot underfoot.”
“As long as everyone else notices her presence as your chaperone, I will be content,” Quinn said with a wry smile. “Appearances matter very much at a time like this.”
At last, they were of the same mind. “Indeed they do, my dear man.”
Chapter 18
“You look like hell, Templeton,” Captain William Ford exclaimed as he strode into the drawing room.
Quinn smiled for his cousin’s sake and held out his hand while repressing the urge to glance around for his father on hearing the title mentioned aloud. He feared it might take a very long while to grow used to being referred to as Templeton rather than Lord Maitland. “Thank you, William. It’s good to see a friendly face, even with the sarcastic tongue you have in your head.”
“I’m honest, and family, so must always be forgiven.” William sidestepped his outstretched hand and embraced him. Quinn’s back was pounded, and then he was released and stared at. William held him by the shoulders, his face full of concern. “I’d offer my condolences if they were necessary,” he said, knowing sympathy for the loss was the last thing Quinn wanted.
He shrugged. “You know my feelings so well.”
“I should. You’ve bent my ear enough over the years about how shoddily Templeton treated you.” William took a chair, accepted a cup of coffee from a footman when offered, and leaned back comfortably. “Things will be better now. For everyone.”
Quinn hoped so. Every waking moment seemed a dream, a nightmare. He was grateful for the focus Theodora encouraged during the day. He took heed of her example and worked harder than ever, rather than fretting over his new responsibilities and all he must do for the good of the family. Last night, though, his first night in his new bed at Newberry House, Quinn had trouble sleeping because she was not near to talk to. He had not expected to miss her when she was only a few doors away down the hall.
“As long as I can make sense of what he’s done, it will be.”
“What do you mean?”
William knew how to keep secrets. He had always taken Quinn’s side in any argument, so he felt no concern opening up to him now. “A Mr. Cushing spoke to me immediately after the burial. Do you know him?”
William nodded. “I’ve heard the name before.”
“He’s expected this morning. Wants to discuss an important matter of business that cannot wait. Since I have no connection with him beyond sharing a dinner with him a few weeks ago, it must be something my father had a hand in.”
“A sticky hand, no doubt. He was always looking for a way to feather his nest, driving a hard bargain that suited his purpose more than the greater good.” William made a face, which made the scar he’d received in battle rather more frightening than usual. “Cushing is quick in coming to you so soon after the funeral. Whatever it is must be very important to him.”
He frowned, glancing toward the door. He was on edge today. Out of place in Newberry House, with its gilt-edged furniture and tiny silk pillows. He much preferred the rustic nature of Maitland House, but Mother had asked him to move, and at such a time, he could not refuse her. “Which makes me all the more worried about what the situation might be. What do you remember of him?”
“Not a bad chap, well connected in trade of course. If I recall correctly, your father introduced us the year before my injury. Been in your father’s pocket this last year or more, I imagine. He has a few daughters, one of an age to come out soon, if memory serves.” William’s eyes narrowed further, and then he rolled his eyes. “Matchmaking from the grave?”
Quinn considered Cushing’s anxiety, his urgency to speak in private as soon as possible, and feared the worst for their meeting. Marriage was utterly out of the question. Father had known his views on arranged alliances. He’d only marry for love. He was convinced that was the only way to be happy with a wife. He’d been as firm on the subject as it was possible to be.
And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that his father had committed him to some foolish scheme anyway.
“Shall I stay?” William offered.
“I’d appreciate it.” William could be trusted to hold his tongue, and his support might be needed if Cushing proved difficult. Quinn would not agree to marry anyone his father had picked out for him. “If you’ve nothing else to do, that is.”
“Certainly I can stay. I warned Matilda I might visit with you for a while. She knows I’m the sensible, levelheaded one, and you’re the emotional one.”