Stephanie Laurens Rogues' Reform Bundle by Stephanie Laurens Page A

it’s only to be expected that Frederick will be on hand to support Eversleigh through the mêlée which is bound to engulf him immediately he sets foot in town. After being held at bay for so long, the matchmaking mamas are bound to descend with a vengeance. So, you see, I expect I’ll have to return to town rather than go on to Aunt Mary in Bath. But I would rather not risk Rothesay without knowing there was at least some purpose to the exercise.”
    â€œAnd if Mr. Marshall shows interest, you’ll risk a confrontation with the Viscount?”
    Amelia looked out of the window at the sunlight dancing on the smooth surface of the lake. Then she sighed and turned to Lenore, an expression compounded of loneliness and hope on her face. “If Frederick shows any real interest, I believe I’d brave the very fires of hell for a chance of happiness.”
    The deep yearning in her cousin’s voice shocked Lenore. She felt an echo deep inside, a reverberation, like a heavy gong clanging, the pure sound of the truth she was trying to deny. Abruptly rising, she crossed to put her arms about Amelia. She gave her cousin a quick hug. “I wish you luck in your endeavour, my dear.”
    As she looked down at Amelia’s determined face, Lenore felt a host of emotions, hitherto steadfastly suppressed, well up and tumble forth into her consciousness where she could no longer ignore them. The bursting of the dam left her shaken but she pinned an encouraging smile on her lips as Amelia rose.
    Slipping her arms about Lenore’s slender waist, Amelia returned her hug. “I’m going to put your advice into practice immediately. As Frederick will not pursue me, I shall simply have to pursue him.” She headed for the door, pausing at the last to add, “In a perfectly ladylike way, of course.”
    Lenore laughed, wondering just how much encouragement Frederick Marshall would need. Before she had decided the point, her own thoughts claimed her.
    She did not get back to the Assyrians.
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    L UNCHEON WAS A noisy affair, full of chatter and laughter. Almost all the guests had relaxed, letting down the formal barriers. They congregated by the lake, where the meal was laid out on a long trestle, small tables and checkered rugs scattered over the lush grass by the lake’s edge. With Smithers and his cohorts in attendance to supply whatever their hearts desired, the company split into transitory groups, the members moving freely from one to the next. The fare was light, as befitted the scene, a succession of delicacies culminating in the season’s first strawberries, served with clotted cream.
    â€œA tour de force , my dear. Your strawberries were delicious.”
    Lenore turned to face Eversleigh, ignoring the odd leap of her pulses as she read the appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you, Your Grace. We have an excellent succession house.”
    â€œI’m sure it is excellent, if it falls within your sphere.”
    Lenore let that pass, merely inclining her head gracefully. She moved aside, so that he could join the circle of which she was a member. He did so, standing by her side to listen as the other members discussed the projected trip to the folly.
    â€œJack said it’s quite ancient,” Mrs. Whitticombe said.
    â€œAnd covered with ivy,” Lady Henslaw added. “It sounds positively romantic. Harry said there was an old story about lovers using it as a trysting place.”
    Lenore kept her lips firmly shut. Her brothers’ imagination had no limits. The old tower had been built as a lookout in the days of the Civil War. Nothing even remotely romantic had ever occurred there. The lower room, the only one large enough to hold more than one person, had been used as a cow byre until the ivy had claimed the structure. Still, the views from the vantage point were excellent; the company would not be disappointed.
    â€œYou must have visited this folly many times,