Wentworth acknowledged her arrival with a nod but the other men ignored her.
A thwack sounded behind Bella and Hammersley let out a low belt of laughter. “I shall win our wager yet, Mr. Nix.”
“Another wager,” Bella mumbled under her breath.
“Men do enjoy winning,” Louisa said as she came to stand close enough for them to whisper.
“Teasdale is gone. I wonder why Nix chose to remain after last evening.”
Louisa moved an inch closer. “I believe he wishes to make an arrangement with Hammersley to fund a new mill in the north near the viscount’s estate.”
“Do men do nothing but make deals?” Bella bit her lip as soon as the words were out.
Rhys’s visit had left her so out of sorts that the entire house party felt like a farce. She wanted it to end so she could get back to her puzzles and conundrums. Solving riddles made far more sense than navigating gentlemen suitors.
She also had to find a way to convince her parents to set off for a warmer climate.
The truth was that she wanted an arrangement too, preferably with a reputable publisher who believed in her work.
“Ladies, we’re starting a new match if you wish to join,” the usually quiet Lord Wentworth called from the edge of the first wicket. He watched both of them cross the grass, but Bella noticed that his gaze fixed on Louisa.
“I suppose we all make bargains, don’t we?” Louisa mused as she walked beside Bella. “Is marriage itself not a deal of sorts?”
Bella narrowed an eye at her cousin. “You make me nervous when you become philosophical.”
Louisa laughed. “I promise I’m not playing matchmaker. To be honest, I’m dubious any of these gentlemen will suit you. Your mother meant well but she couldn’t choose as you would.”
“On that, we’re agreed. At least the field has narrowed to Hammersley and Wentworth.”
“And what is your strategy?” She grinned the way she did when Bella was on the verge of explaining a new conundrum.
“Do I need one?”
Louisa stopped, pulled Bella to a standstill and shot her a dumbfounded look. “You’re a puzzle maker, Bell. You always have a strategy. And you’re practically an expert at turning down offers of marriage.”
“Thank you.” Bella frowned. “If that was praise.”
“Oh it was.” Louisa smiled mischievously. “You must teach me that skill in case I need it during my first Season.”
“You won’t need it.” Bella knew her cousin’s first Season would be a grand success.
Louisa was lovely, clever, and eager to fall in love. No past hurt held her heart hostage.
“If I do, I’m coming straight to you for aid.” She glanced toward the men assembled near the first wicket waiting for them to start a new match. “Now, how may I help you with these three?”
Bella assessed the men too. “My only goal is to end all of this as soon as possible and get back to my work.”
“Do you not fear your parents will arrange for another Season?”
“Yes, but shall I marry Hammersley instead?” The fear of another Season chased at her mind relentlessly. But the fear of a life with any of the men standing on her lawn was far greater.
“So you must dissuade Nix, Wentworth, and Hammersley from any further pursuit.” Louisa pursed her mouth thoughtfully and tapped a finger against her cheek.
Bella knew the answer. She’d considered it last night, and the gentlemen’s earlier conversation made it clear how well it would work. They’d been appalled by Rhys’s unexpected visit, and it had apparently unsettled Hammersley almost as deeply as it had shaken Bella.
What would they say if Rhys joined them for dinner as an invited guest and danced with her at the musical evening her mother had planned?
“There it is,” Louisa said excitedly. “The gears are working. What have you come up with?”
“A bargain.”
Louisa tilted her head. “With one of these gentlemen?”
“No.” Bella drew in a deep breath and placed a hand over her middle. “He’d insist he’s not a gentleman at all. A scoundrel, some would say.”
“Claremont.” There wasn’t even a hint of surprise in Louisa’s voice. “But you sent him away last night, didn’t you? Why would he return?”
“He asked me for something.”
“So you’ll make a deal.”
Bella smiled and the fluttering in her belly eased. This wasn’t even a terribly difficult problem to solve. He needed her help and now she needed his. Rhys was reckless and completely impulsive, but he could be practical too.
“Are you joining us, ladies?” Nix’s impatient whine grated on Bella’s nerves.
Wentworth stepped in front of him and gestured Louisa and Bella toward the first wicket. “As it is your birthday, Miss Prescott, you must take the first turn.”
Louisa began to step toward the men, but Bella stayed her with a hand on her arm. “I’m going to make an excuse to step away. I need to compose a note to the duke and have a servant deliver it before it gets too late in the day.”
“Let me do it,” Louisa whispered. “These gentlemen have come to spend time with you. Just tell me what to say.”
“No, I must do this myself.” Bella wondered if he’d remember the date, the anniversary of the last moment they’d spoken in five years. Until last night.
In that moment, she decided a note wouldn’t do. He’d come to her, so she’d go to him.
Now that the shock of their first encounter had worn off, seeing him again wouldn’t disturb her at all.
“Forgive me, gentlemen, but I must attend to an errand this morning.”
Rhys would welcome her visit. And maybe if he did this one thing and freed her from the pressure to marry a man who didn’t suit her, it would truly make up for that day.
Chapter Six
The man was late.
Rhys paced the length of his father’s study but it did nothing to burn away the frustration that had been building since his return to Edgecombe.
Glancing out the garden-facing window, he spotted Meg, who’d set up an easel to paint flowers in the sunshine. Getting out of doors might do him good too. Maybe a gallop across the fields on one of his father’s stallions. The stables were apparently full of fine horses and there was a man-made lake on the property his father had commissioned but Rhys had never seen.
In many ways, Edgecombe was a mystery. He’d avoided the place for years, and during that time his father had made expensive changes. Discovering why and solving the problem of its finances was proving an even greater quandary than he’d expected. Unlike his clever neighbor, Rhys had never been good at unraveling riddles.
He glanced at the clock again. “Where the hell are you, Radley?”
He refused to be confined inside on a fine day because his suspicious steward declined to show his face. The man’s reticence made it more and more likely that he was the culprit in siphoning the estate’s funds. Ah, how bloody grand it would be to wrap up the whole matter quickly.
Then he could focus on Meg and her Season, speaking to tenants, making repairs to the estate, a visit to the House of Lords when it was in session. Good God, how had the list of duties grown since he’d arrived?