This phrase disarmed the lawyer, and for the first time all morning, he smiled.
“Not at all, Your Grace. I was simply caught off guard. I have not chosen a place where Miss Rare-Foure and I shall enjoy our country sojourns because I think it best if we choose a place together after she becomes my wife.”
The man had finished off sounding entirely recovered from the affront and was back to throwing his engagement with Amity back into Henry’s face. Touché.
“Yes, of course,” Henry agreed, feeling as if he could spit venom at the notion of Amity and Mr. Cole strolling around country cottages with an agent from Chestertons helping them to pick a suitable one, perhaps letting them inspect the bedchambers and such.
“How thoughtful of you,” Amity said to Mr. Cole, and Henry knew he’d well and truly lost that round.
Mr. Foure spoke up, “That’s a grand idea, Mr. Cole. My father, Baron Foure, came over from France with my mother looking for a nice piece of property to please her. We have enjoyed it, haven’t we, dear wife?”
She nodded in agreement. “It is an excellent respite from the city.”
“Nothing could be better than this,” Miss Charlotte proclaimed. “Not only our house but the area surrounding.”
Refusing to entertain the idea of defeat, Henry had a plan for enjoying the day and getting closer to Amity, despite the prior setback.
“As to the area, Miss Charlotte, are there any sights to see hereabouts? Roman ruins and such?” Between Canterbury and the sea, where his country estate was, there were three Roman ruins, and as a boy, he’d always found them fascinating.
“Oh yes, Your Grace. Right in Colchester, we have a well-preserved Roman gate.”
“A gate?” Mr. Cole asked with obvious disdain.
“A gate is nothing to sneer at,” Henry said. “A most important means of defense and toll taking, as well.”
“Oh, to be sure,” Mr. Foure agreed. “And this one was extremely vital, built at the intersection of the Roman road from London and the town of Colchester.”
“Or Camulodunum, as it was called,” Miss Beatrice added. “It’s not merely the best preserved of any Roman gateway in the country, I’ve read it is also the largest at 107 feet wide with two carriageways and two footpaths.”
“We must go,” Miss Charlotte exclaimed. “It’s a perfect day for an outing. It’s not too far, and we can eat at that darling tavern. Your Grace, you shall see for yourself how darling it is. Can we, Father?”
Henry was delighted with these two allies but hadn’t yet heard from Amity as to whether she would go.
Mr. Foure nodded. “The Hole-in-the-Wall Public House provides a very good meal indeed. As for the ruins, the north tower still stands as well as the arches of the south pedestrian way. What do you say Mrs. Rare-Foure to an outing?”
Amity’s mother looked directly at Henry. “I think if our guest has an interest, by all means, we should go.”
Mr. Cole cleared his throat, reminding the family he, too, was a guest. Henry almost felt sorry for him. Compared to a duke, the man was now practically an unwanted intruder. Amity clearly remembered his existence, however, and her next words reminded everyone of her fiancé’s status.
“If Mr. Cole wishes to go, I shall go along and be glad of it,” she said.
Henry immediately felt the lash of jealousy course through him, but he could do nothing, exactly as he had been forced to leave her alone with the lawyer the previous night. All eyes turned to Mr. Cole to see if he was going to be a dispirited wet blanket or a stand-up chap.
Under such scrutiny, what could he do? “Yes, let’s have an outing. As long as my betrothed is with me, it doesn’t matter where I am.”
Well-played, Henry thought, but he would find a way to get Amity to his side. He was confident of that.
First, he offered his comfortable traveling coach for half their party so neither were they cramped nor would some of them need to go on horseback. In case the weather altered, as if often did from morning to afternoon, they would all be covered. If Henry could figure out how to maneuver Amity into his coach, everything would be perfect.
Alas, it was not to be. In fact, it was Amity who, like a traitor, ensured her sisters rode with him.
“If our party is to be split,” she said, “I think Beatrice and Charlotte should go with His Grace to tell him all they know of the Colchester gate.”
Then she sent Henry a long and knowing look. He returned it with a smile as if he were entirely unbothered. He would use the time alone with the younger Rare-Foures to find out more about Amity. Any information might come in handy as he sought to wrest her away from Mr. Cole, who plainly was not good enough for her.
As soon as they were settled in his coach, he began to ply the sisters with questions although not about the Roman ruins.
“How long have your sister and Mr. Cole been keeping company?”
“About a year and a half,” Miss Charlotte volunteered while Miss Beatrice regarded him thoughtfully.
“And yet they only recently became engaged. What am I to make of that?”
At this, Miss Beatrice smiled slightly. “Why are you making anything of it at all, Your Grace?”
The middle sister was a tad saucy, no doubt about it. He shrugged. “Idle curiosity. In my experience, people meet, they realize they have affection for one another, and in short succession, they declare an engagement. Otherwise, either party is liable to find him or herself cut out. Either the man finds a woman more eager to be his life partner, or the woman is pursued by a worthier — and quicker — suitor.”
“I suppose our sister was fortunate,” Miss Beatrice said, “to have ended up with a man moving at exactly the same speed as she.”
Or unfortunate, Henry thought. Then to his amazement, she looked him in the eye and said the exact same thing.
“Or unfortunate — if the first suitor was a tepid attachment and their engagement occurred precisely when a more fitting suitor came along.”
“What are you on about?” Miss Charlotte asked her sister. “Your Grace, would you like to hear anything more about Colchester?”
“I think I would rather be surprised when we arrive. Tell me, does your sister long for anything in life besides making chocolates?”
Miss Charlotte stared at him, perhaps coming to realize how interested he was in Amity. Still, it was Miss Beatrice who answered.
“Our older sister is funny and smart and lovely and more talented than you could imagine. But in one regard, she is no different than any woman. She wants to be loved for who she is. She doesn’t want to have to change or put on airs or affectations.”
Henry thought about this. Would she have to change for him? She might, more so than if she married Mr. Cole. On the other hand, he already loved her for who she was. That should count for something.
“I think our sister would like a puppy,” Miss Charlotte added. “If you really want to know.”
He and Miss Beatrice looked at the guileless youngest Rare-Foure sister, and he started to laugh. A gift of a puppy? That, he could easily do without upending anyone’s apple cart.
“Are you sure it’s not you who wants one?” he asked gently.
Miss Charlotte smiled sweetly. “Oh no, Your Grace. I would prefer a cat.”