Free His Heart's Delight by Mary Blayney Page A

pour Peter another glass of port. Wilton
smiled, but covered his glass with his hand. “If I am to play
tonight I must refuse.” His youth was apparent when he added, “I
learned that from watching you, sir. You always have a glass at
your elbow but you rarely do more than sip at it.”
    The boy was observant. He would give him
that. On the other hand, Wilton should have stopped three glasses
ago if he truly did wish to keep a clear head. “I expect that your
brother—Richard is it?—will find plenty of opportunity to test his
skill at cards in the army.”
    Peter laughed. “Not to be disloyal, sir, but
my brother has no skill at cards at all, though he thinks he does.
He told Christiana he would not play but, sir, I know there are
battles, but there must be equally as many long encampments. What
else is there to do?”
    “Miss Lambert does not approve of
gaming?”
    “Oh no, it is not that, my lord. It is my
suspicion that she wants him to save every bit of his pay.”
    “Are they engaged then?” Morgan sipped his
port and cleared his throat.
    “Oh no, my lord! Not with Christiana’s Season
and Richard in harm’s way as he is. It is only my assumption that
they will one day find their way to the altar.
    I mean she has been forever around our home
and we hers. They get along well enough, and a union between a
Lambert female and a Wilton male would suit my father perfectly. It
will put an end to a squabble over some property that both families
have claimed for four generations.”
    Morgan controlled his smile. It was about
settlements and not sentiment after all. “The land would be part of
the marriage settlement?”
    Peter waved his hand. “Some nonsensical
arrangement made years ago that the land would go to the first
Wilton-Lambert union, with the land to go to the male half of the
marriage regardless of which family it was. Of course, there is no
doubt that the property belongs to us. It is only that Lambert land
borders it on three sides.”
    Wilton’s words were spoken with a righteous
indignation that he must have inherited direct from his father.
    Morgan frowned. “Does Miss Lambert know
this?” He could not believe that she would agree to it if it were
expressed quite that way.
    “I think not, sir. It would not suit her
romantic nature at all.”
    Exactly. But why did the phrase he had just
thought sound so belittling when given voice by Wilton? He
considered it a moment as he watched Rhys and Gaffney still talking
with earnest intensity. To Wilton, Christiana’s “romantic nature”
was a shortcoming and for Morgan it was an intrinsic part of her
charm.
    He could almost convince himself that she
needed to be rescued from the machinations of her land-hungry
neighbor. But that was not what this was about. It was a ruse to
satisfy James, to win for himself the time he needed to earn his
own fortune so he could declare his independence.
    It was hardly a sacrifice to escort a lovely
lady to such entertainments as they would both enjoy. If, in the
process, she learned there was more to romance than a provincial
land-hungry beau, then she would learn what dozens before her had.
It sounded less noble put that way, he decided, and just a little
more cruel. But then the truth often was.
    ~ ~ ~
    “Christy, the truth is cruel.” Joanna sat on
the edge of her sister’s bed and tried to make herself understood.
“He is a gamester. That means games are his specialty. I do not
trust him.”
    Christiana was sorry that she had brought up
the subject. Why had she, when the evening had already proved trial
enough? Because she had not expected Joanna to disagree with her,
that was why. And now the little ache behind her eyes threatened to
blossom into a full-blown headache. She would change the
subject.
    “Was that musicale not a colossal bore? Two
women singing in German for two hours.” She shuddered. “I do wish
Mama had not turned down those other invitations so
precipitously.”
    Joanna sighed, sat on