“I know.”
“You don’t look nearly as happy as I am about it.” Angus wasn’t willing to let Boone throw cold water on his good mood, but the other man’s grim expression worried him.
“I’m worried about what the backup brides might do next. They’re not going to be happy when you go right back to Win and leave Leslie out in the cold.”
“I have every right to marry whoever I want.”
“I know. The question is, do they care about your rights?” Boone sighed as Clay pulled up in one of the manor’s barouches. The Russells loved it when they used nineteenth-century transportation to cover the short distance to their house, and Angus knew James was on his way in his own carriage to pick up some of the group. The horses came to a halt at Clay’s command, and several men and women climbed up and took their seats. “They could still hamstring us by going after our advertisers,” Boone added.
“I did what I could do. I stuck with Leslie—”
“I know you did. I’m just worried it’s not enough. And then there’s Walker and Avery.” They both looked over to where those two stood close to each other, not talking.
“They’ll figure it out. They have to,” Angus said.
“I sure hope so.”
“You can’t blame me for going back to Win.” Angus knew he should drop the conversation, but it bugged him to think Boone might think he’d fallen down on the job.
“I wish Leslie wasn’t so set on marrying you.”
“I certainly didn’t do anything to encourage that.”
“I keep feeling like there’s something else we should have done. Maybe I should have found her a backup husband. Do you think she can be persuaded to fall for Douglas?”
“Doesn’t seem likely he’ll stay at Base Camp long-term.”
“Boone, Angus, come on,” Jericho called from the last of the barouches. “You don’t want to miss dinner, do you?”
“Definitely not,” Boone called back. “Think you can handle six more hours?” he asked Angus.
“I’ve made it this far,” Angus said, but he had a feeling it would be a long night.
Win would have enjoyed the dinner greatly if Leslie hadn’t been glowering at her throughout it. It didn’t help that Angus had dropped down next to Win without even checking to see where Leslie was going to sit. He’d given up all pretense of squiring Leslie around, even though technically his time with her wasn’t up until midnight.
“You should have sat with her,” Win murmured halfway through the meal. “She’s furious.”
“I don’t know how to pretend anymore that I’m not with you.” He glanced Leslie’s way, however, and frowned at her expression. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. You’d better ask her for the first dance.”
“Fine,” he growled. “But I want to be with you and only you.”
“Soon.”
By the time the meal ended, Win’s stomach was in knots. She didn’t think Leslie had a malicious bone in her body, but sometimes the quiet ones fooled you, and there were plenty of things she could do to make their lives difficult.
“Gentlemen, if you’ll help me move the furniture,” Maud Russell trilled when they entered her generously sized living room. “We can clear a space to dance. Savannah? Will you play for us?”
“Certainly.” Savannah left baby Jacob in her husband’s arms and crossed to the Russells’ grand piano, letting her hands run over the keys, then picking out a lively tune. “Grab your partners, everyone.”
“Go ask Leslie,” Win reminded Angus when he reached for her hand. Savannah was playing a song they all recognized. One she always played when they danced one of the formal English Regency dances they’d learned early on. Win loved joining in, but she’d sit this one out if it helped restore harmony.
But when Angus crossed the room to ask Leslie to partner him, the younger woman pushed him away and raced off toward the back of the house. Win exchanged a surprised look with Angus, then hurried to follow her. She wasn’t sure if Leslie would welcome her assistance, but she couldn’t very well leave her alone in this kind of mood.
Byron and his crew quickly followed as well, much to Win’s frustration. She wondered if what Leslie needed was a heart to heart with another woman. She couldn’t remember seeing Leslie ever phone a friend—or her family. Was she getting advice from anyone, or handling all of this alone?
She found her in the kitchen, leaning against the wall near the refrigerator, arms crossed, head lowered.
“Leslie?” Win asked hesitantly. “You okay?”
Leslie mumbled something.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know how to dance,” Leslie blazed. “No one ever taught me. All of you know all the steps to all the songs, and I don’t know a single one.”
Win had expected her to rail about Angus’s behavior, so she was too surprised to answer.
“I get that you don’t want me here,” the younger woman went on. “You want Angus for yourself because he’s the father of your child, and that’s natural. I don’t like it, but I get it. But that’s not all of it. No one wants me here, no matter how hard I work, how hard I try to make friends, how useful I am, how much I help. No one wants me. So you keep me out of everything. You don’t include me. You don’t invite me to your coffee klatches. You don’t teach me how to dance!”
She was right, Win realized. Right from day one they’d all assumed they could get her to leave. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess all I’ve thought about since I got here was how to be with Angus.”
“I’m supposed to have thirty days! You didn’t even give me one!”
“He’s my baby’s father. Put yourself in my shoes. Wouldn’t you fight to get him back?”
Leslie straightened. “If I was in your shoes, I’d never have left in the first place. That’s the difference between me and you, Win Lisle. I know what I’ve got. I appreciate it. I
