“Oh?”
He could imagine her asking herself why he couldn’t achieve the same result via his clubs, as he usually did; before she could follow that thought any further, he glanced at Martin and added, “I also thought that given many gentlemen will, it seems, be attending, if Martin was to join us, the event might prove useful in terms of him reconnecting with society.”
Therese immediately saw her husband’s point. “That’s an excellent notion.” She looked at Martin. “Are you free? I can guarantee that the countess will be thrilled to have you come as well.”
Somewhat wryly, Martin glanced from Therese to Devlin, then back again. “Tee, I only arrived in London yesterday. I haven’t had time to make social plans.” He glanced again at Devlin. “And this picnic does sound like an ideal opportunity to at least show my face.”
“So you’re free?” she pressed.
He nodded.
She was rather surprised by the easy victory; she’d expected to have to persuade him.
“We can take you up with us,” Devlin said as they stepped onto the tiles of the front hall. “Unless you wish to drive yourself?”
Martin pulled a face. “Would that I could, but I haven’t yet had time to look into getting a curricle and team or even a hack.” He halted and looked at Therese. “Papa told me that Uncle Harry and Aunt Felicity have more or less retired from the horse breeding and racing business, and that Pru married and is now living in Ireland, so which of our cousins would it be best to ask about horses?”
“Oh, you want Toby for that,” she replied. “He’s the most knowledgeable about both horses and carriages. Nowadays, everyone in the family asks him.”
Martin nodded. “I’ll look him up, but in the meantime”—he turned to Devlin and smiled—“if it’s no trouble, I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Therese assured him that he was very welcome to accompany them, and after further discussion, they agreed that Martin should present himself at Alverton House by ten o’clock the next morning.
With that decided and Portland pointedly hovering, Therese beamed and led her brother and husband into the dining room.
Devlin waved Martin ahead and, smiling himself, followed. His newfound brother-in-law was already proving useful. With Martin in their carriage, distracting Therese simply by being there, Devlin would have nothing to fear through the hours required to travel back and forth from Surrey, in a closed carriage, with his far-too-observant and potentially—certainly by the return journey—suspicious wife.
Chapter 4
It was a glorious autumn day, with the sun shining from a clear blue sky, when at noon, Therese strolled on Devlin’s arm, with Martin on her other side, across the lush lawns at the side of Wicklow House toward where Lady Wicklow was waiting to welcome her guests.
Said guests were arriving in a steady stream and, judging by the groups already gracing the wide lawn at the rear of the house, had been for some time.
His gaze on those already there, Devlin murmured, “No wonder we had to leave our carriage so far down the drive.”
“Just as well we left London when we did,” Therese returned. It had been she who had insisted on the ten o’clock start; both men had thought—clearly mistakenly—that arriving later wouldn’t have been a problem.
They joined the short line waiting to greet her ladyship, who was one of the older hostesses and had a wide acquaintance within the ton.
The instant the couple in front of them moved on, Therese smiled brightly and stepped up to offer Lady Wicklow her hand. “Good afternoon, Lady Wicklow. What a glorious day!”
With her gaze switching from Devlin to Martin, then back again—before returning to Martin—her ladyship was clearly in two minds over which of the pair was the more unexpected. Somewhat blindly, she grasped Therese’s fingers. “I’m so glad you could come, countess.”
Blithely, Therese waved at her husband. “I’m sure you remember Alverton.”
Therese retrieved her fingers from her ladyship’s lax grasp and waited while her husband smoothly exchanged the customary courtesies. Then she gestured to Martin. “I doubt you’ll have met my brother Martin before. He’s been overseas for several years and has only just returned to these shores.”
Her ladyship’s rather protuberant eyes slowly widened, then flared. “Oh! Oh yes—of course. You’re that Martin Cynster. The one who…well, I see.”
Therese had never seen Lady Wicklow—an experienced hostess of long standing—flustered before.
Martin duly bowed, charmingly commented on having heard of the extensive web of her ladyship’s acquaintance, and voiced his hope that her ladyship would not be inconvenienced by his using her event to make his first appearance within the ton.
Delight combined with avid curiosity poured from Lady Wicklow, and she flapped her fingers. “Of course not, my dear. You’re most definitely welcome.”
Therese promptly stepped in. Confident that her stock with the old hostess had risen considerably given that she’d brought not one but two personable and interesting gentlemen in her train, she caught one of her ladyship’s hands and gently squeezed. “Thank you, your ladyship. We’d best move on.”
Leaving Lady Wicklow, still hungry for more, to satisfy the curiosity of the next guests in line, drawing Devlin and Martin with her, Therese glided toward the wide lawn where the guests were congregating. “That was nicely done,” she murmured to Martin, “but just be thankful that with other guests waiting, she couldn’t keep you there while she extracted your complete life history from you.”
Martin glanced at her. “That’s supposed to make me feel more relaxed?”
“No. That’s supposed to put you on your guard.” She slid her arm from Devlin’s and linked her other arm with Martin’s. “Now come along—there are several other hostesses here to whom you need to make your bow. Don’t worry—I won’t desert you.”
Devlin halted. “I, however, will.” When brother and sister paused to look his way, he saluted them and met Therese’s eyes. “I’ll catch up with you later. Enjoy yourselves.”
She grinned. “I will.”
Martin sighed. “I won’t, but I suppose I’ll have to gird my loins and get this over with.” More quietly, he muttered, “At least it’s a picnic and not a damned ball.”
“Come on.” Therese towed him toward a gathering of ladies who had already noticed them and were, albeit covertly, staring.
Devlin watched the pair go, then still smiling, walked across the lawn toward where several of his peers from the Lords were chatting in a loose group with their backs to a high hedge.
He felt rather smug over how well his prediction of Martin providing the perfect distraction for his own activities was playing out. Not only had Martin’s presence in the carriage provided both Devlin and Therese with nearly inexhaustible fodder for questions, resulting in an entertaining and illuminating journey, but Martin’s appearance on the lawns had succeeded in deflecting the combined attentions of the assembled ladies from the unexpected sight of Devlin himself.