With the pathetic humiliation of a broken engagement behind her-news of it was bound to drift homeward sooner or later, probably sooner-she was going to have to attend the christening party for Kit's baby and smile and smile until her face felt permanently stretched.
'You had better come for a week or two, then,' she said ungraciously. 'We will contrive to quarrel at the end of it-it should not be difficult.'
Wulfric got to his feet. 'I believe,' he said with distant hauteur, 'you have neglected Lady Potford's guests for long enough.'
He strolled to the door and let himself out without a backward glance.
The marquess looked at Freyja.
'Good Lord,' he said.
'Triple damnation,' she said.
He grinned and then-quite predictably-laughed.
'So we live to kiss again,' he said, waggling his eyebrows and offering her his arm.
'Over my dead body,' she assured him, lofting her nose into the air and passing him on her way to the door.
'A cliche unworthy of you, sweetheart,' he said. 'But I sincerely hope you do not mean it. I would be incapable of enjoying such a kiss-as would you too, of course-and I would hate that for both of us.'
CHAPTER XI
Two days later Joshua found himself riding along the king's highway in the midst of the impressively large entourage of liveried coachmen, footmen, and outriders escorting his grace's crested traveling carriage and baggage coach to Lindsey Hall in Hampshire. Who could have predicted the bizarre sequence of events that had brought him to this moment? He could not decide whether he should be quaking with terror or doubled over with helpless laughter.
But he was not a man much given to terror. And watching people in every village through which they passed gawking in awe and bobbing curtsies or pulling at forelocks and the drivers of every vehicle they passed respectfully pulling over to one side of the road until the procession had gone by was endlessly amusing. He could probably behave this way if he wished, he supposed-he was the Marquess of Hallmere, after all. The thought tickled his fancy.
He wished he could share the joke with Lady Freyja. But she, much against the grain, he suspected, was riding inside the leading carriage with the duke. Besides, it was possible that she was so accustomed to this form of travel that she would not see anything humorous about it. He wondered what they were talking about. Probably nothing at all, or else the weather or the passing scenery. Bewcastle had made no further mention of the betrothal since the evening before last.
Joshua was feeling perfectly cheerful as he looked forward to arriving at Lindsey Hall. It was true that he was fairly caught in parson's mousetrap until Lady Freyja in due course decided to set him free. He was entirely at her mercy. But she was a woman who would always play fair even if she also played rough, he believed. Besides, she had no more wish to marry him than he had to marry her. In the meantime he liked her. He had not yet tired of her company. Quite the contrary-he found her conversation and wit and spirit quite as stimulating as those of any of his male friends. And he found her dashed attractive. Maybe too attractive-he was going to have to tread carefully in the coming days or weeks or however long he was expected to stay in Hampshire.
They reached Lindsey Hall during the middle of the afternoon. Joshua followed the carriage through the gates and along a straight, wide avenue lined with elm trees. The house soon came into view at the end of it. It was neither medieval nor Jacobean nor Georgian nor any other single architectural style. It was a mix of many styles and clearly a mansion that had been in the family for generations and 'improved' upon and added to many times. The result was surprisingly imposing and pleasing.
The wide avenue divided into two not far from the house in order to skirt about a large circular garden with a marble fountain at its center. There were not as many flowers blooming at this time of the year as there probably were in July, but the water had not yet been turned off for the winter. It spouted at least thirty feet into the air before spilling over into the wide basin like the sparkling spokes of an umbrella.
There was a young boy standing precariously on the edge of the basin, probably getting wet. A tall, solid- looking man with dark, forbidding countenance and large, hooked nose-the Bedwyn nose?-stood on the grassy verge of the avenue not far from the boy, a young girl perched on one of his shoulders and clinging to his hair. A slender, pretty, brown-haired young lady and a voluptuously endowed redhead were with them. All had turned to watch the approach of the carriage. The ladies smiled as it passed. The little girl waved. They all looked curiously at Joshua.
Three other people dressed for riding were walking out of the stable yard as the carriage made its final turn onto the cobbled terrace before the great double doors of the house. One was a slender, willowy, dark-haired young beauty. The other two were men, one tall, broad, fair, and dark-browed, the other dark, slim, and good-looking. Both had the family nose.
He was about to meet the Bedwyns, Joshua realized. He wondered how he would be introduced. He had not discussed with Bewcastle whether or not the family was to be party to the farce that must be acted out for decency's sake until the betrothal could be properly ended-if there was a proper way to end a betrothal.
There was a great deal of noise as everyone converged upon the terrace while the carriage door was opened wide and the steps set down. The big, fair-haired brother reached inside and swung Lady Freyja out without benefit of the steps. She proceeded to hug the ladies and the little girl. She shook hands like a man with the boy and her brothers. The duke meanwhile descended, nodded to them all, and looked faintly taken aback when the brown- haired lady hugged him.
Joshua dismounted and turned his horse over to the care of a groom who had come running from the stables.
Freyja came striding over to him when she had completed her flurry of greetings. Her chin was lifted proudly. There was a martial gleam in her eyes. It was not, perhaps, a moment she had anticipated with any great joy. She took him firmly by one hand.
'I want you all to meet the Marquess of Hallmere-Joshua,' she said, her voice raised haughtily. 'My betrothed. There is no marriage date set. I daresay it will be next year sometime. Perhaps next summer.'
There was a chorus of sound, but she held up one hand and it subsided.
'Let me complete the introductions first,' she said and proceeded to name all the strangers about him. Lady
