Free Dancing the Maypole by Cari Hislop Page A

lonely bed proving it.
    Peter arrived
at his brother’s door feeling old and despondent. Led up to the
green and gold reception room by Frederick, his brother’s footman,
the knot in Peter’s stomach eased at finding his sister-in-law was
alone with a book. How had brother fallen in love with Agnes? She
was a beautiful intelligent woman, but it was impossible to
perceive even a glimmer of warmth in her eyes. There had to be a
heart beating under the marble bust, but Peter had difficulty
believing it. She stood on seeing him enter and politely offered
her cheek for a brotherly kiss. Peter wrinkled his nose as he
pressed his lips against the smell of musty roses. It brought to
mind summer rain and Isabel. The thought made the air in his lungs
heavy as he was reminded for the umpteenth time that day how much
he desired Isabel de Bourbon. Peter forced a smile, “Hello Agnes,
how are your two angels?”
    “They haven’t
tried to poison anyone all week. James took them to the circus with
your boys. Cecil promised to ensure they wouldn’t poke the lions or
set the fire-eater ablaze like last time. Sit down, you look like
death.” Peter collapsed into a green armchair and sighed with
pleasure at sitting still. “Frederick! Have Cook prepare a tea tray
for two and remind her that I wish lunch served twenty minutes
after Master James’ return.” Agnes sat back down and stared at
Peter with unreadable eyes that conveyed a desire for
information.
    “I feel old,”
said Peter.
    “You look
it.”
    “Thank you
Agnes, it’s very k-k-kind of you to assuage my vanity.” Peter
covered his face with his good hand as painful feelings threatened
to gush from his eyes. “I assume you know why my brats came to
Bath?”
    “Poor Isabel.
She’s been in love with you forever.”
    Peter flinched
as an invisible clenched fist struck him in the stomach. “Why
d-didn’t you introduce us years ago?”
    “Katie said you
liked short blondes.”
    Peter’s lungs
ached for air as his brain processed the meaning of the words. “I
b-beg your pardon. I married Katie because I was in love with
her.”
    “Katie said all
the girls you’d kissed and fondled were short blondes.”
    “What?” Peter
blanched as the chair underneath him seemed to heave on an
invisible wave, making him instantly seasick. “What else did she
tell you?”
    “Peter, truth
is like a diamond; it has many facets. Katie could only see one
facet.”
    “I bored Katie
to d-death.”
    “Your wife died
of heart failure.”
    “Only because
she drank laudanum like lemonade. She drugged herself to escape me,
and I didn’t even realise…”
    The marble
woman prepared his tea and held out a cup and saucer. “We all have
our faults.”
    “Mamma tried to
warn me, but I didn’t listen.” Peter stared down into the dark tea
reflecting his waistcoat buttons. “I ruined Katie’s life. I ruined
mine…”
    “You were young
Peter; the same age as Charles. You needed a woman in your bed so
you married the easiest one to talk to. So you bored each other;
she left you a richer man. Can you imagine life without your five
helpful brats? There are people who’d sacrifice almost anything to
have one son. You have five. Everyone bores someone. Drink your tea
and don’t drown yourself.” Peter obediently gulped down the hot
liquid and scorched the tears rolling down the back of his throat.
“Blondes aside,” said Agnes. “I did try to introduce you, but
Isabel would find out you were invited and send one of her silly
excuses. She slapped you?”
    Peter gingerly
touched the welt on his face. “Three times.”
    “Poor Isabel.
Cousin Robert calls her the ugly cousin. I wouldn’t be surprised if
he proposes again one of these days. He needs a woman who’ll be
kind to his adopted bastards.”
    “Isabel isn’t
ugly!” His chest heaving with the force of his words, Peter blushed
at losing his composure.
    “True. She’s
quite pretty and excellent company if one can put her at