A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (read this if txt) 📕

Emma gestured towards a teapot sitting on a table near her. “Would you care for some tea, my lord?”

“I would.”

Leaning forward, Emma picked up the teapot and poured three cups of tea, before putting it down and extending him a cup and saucer.

“Thank you,” he replied.

Emma handed her mother a cup before she retrieved her own. A silence descended over them as they took long sips of the warm beverage.

Martin lowered the cup to his lap. “Do you read, Lady Emma?”

“I do,” she replied, perking up.

Lady Bideford spoke up. “But I assure you that she doesn’t read drivel.”

“Interesting,” Martin replied, amused. “What books do you consider to be drivel?”

“Anything that is much too heavy,” Lady Bideford replied, “such as philosophy and theology.”

Emma gave him a smile over the rim of her teacup. “I enjoy reading books with a lot of pictures so I can avoid thinking too much.”

Lady Bideford shook her head disapprovingly. “That is not entirely true,” she said. “I have often seen you reading Fordyce’s sermons.”

“That is admirable of you,” Martin acknowledged.

Emma placed her empty teacup onto the tray. “How do you occupy your time, my lord?”

“I enjoy riding, as well,” he replied, “but I’m afraid I don’t have as much leisure time as before. My priorities shifted after my grandfather died.”

A look of compassion came to Emma’s face. “I am sorry for your loss,” she said. “I lost my grandmother last year and am still grieving her loss deeply.”

“It is a hard thing to lose a loved one,” he acknowledged.

“That it is,” Emma agreed.

Martin rose from his chair and placed his empty teacup onto the tray. “Thank you for receiving me, but I’m afraid I have work I need to see to.”

“Must you go so soon?” Lady Bideford asked.

“The pile of correspondence on my desk is a never-ending task,” he remarked, “but I must admit that meeting with you both has been a respite from my duties.”

“Please allow me to walk you to the door,” Emma said, rising.

“I would be honored,” he replied as he offered his arm.

“I do apologize for my mother,” Emma whispered as they stepped into the entry hall. “I assure you she means well.”

“I can tell that your mother dotes on you.”

“That she does, and she loves to tout my accomplishments to others,” she said. “It can get rather tiresome.”

Martin stopped at the door, lowered his arm, and turned to face her. “That is what precisely any good mother would do,” he reassured her.

“You are being much too kind.”

He smiled. “I find that it is rather easy to do so.”

A blush came to her cheeks at his words. “You flatter me, my lord.”

“I did enjoy our time together,” he said. “If you do not object, I would like to call on you again.”

She bobbed her head. “I shall be looking forward to it.”

Martin tipped his head in response before stepping through the main door. It was time for him to get back to work.

8

Hannah sat rigidly on the settee as she listened to Lord Groff share a story about fox hunting. She had never understood the appeal of the sport. Frankly, it seemed rather barbaric for grown men to chase after a poor little fox for hours, waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill it. But who was she to judge? It was a sport for gentlemen, and her father had been known to participate in the hunt.

Her father.

How she missed him. And her mother. Not a day went by that she didn’t think about them, but she never spoke about them. She couldn’t. It was much too painful. Her heart still ached at the loss of her parents. They were taken from her entirely too soon.

Kate nudged her arm. “Did you hear Lord Groff?”

Hannah gave him an apologetic smile. “I apologize,” she said. “I’m afraid I was woolgathering.”

“Not to worry,” he replied with an indulgent smile. “My sisters react in a similar fashion when I start sharing my hunting stories. I assure you that I do not take any offense.”

“I am pleased to hear that.”

Lord Groff rose from his chair. “I’m afraid I must depart, but I have thoroughly enjoyed our time together.”

Rising, Hannah replied, “I feel the same way.”

“Wonderful,” Lord Groff said. “I shall call upon you again when my schedule allows it.”

“I will have something to look forward to, then.”

Lord Groff tipped his head at Kate. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Lady Berkshire.”

“Likewise, Lord Groff,” Kate responded.

After Lord Groff departed from the drawing room, Hannah lowered herself again to the settee and reached for her teacup.

Kate shifted in her seat to face her. “May I ask your thoughts on Lord Groff?”

“He is pleasant enough,” she replied, lowering the cup to her lap, “but I do not see myself marrying him.”

“Why is that?”

“He spent the entire time talking about fox hunting.”

Kate gave a half-shrug. “He is passionate about the sport.”

“That he is,” Hannah replied, “but did you notice that he failed to ask me one question about myself?”

“I had noticed that.”

“I am not one who generally likes to talk about myself, but I do think it is a necessary step if we are spending time together.”

“I would agree,” Kate said. “Perhaps Lord Groff was just nervous around you.”

“Regardless, I would rather focus my attention on Lord Charles.”

“Is that so?”

Hannah nodded. “He is a charming man, and I think we would suit admirably.”

Kate reached for her teacup and took a sip. “Is there a particular reason for favoring Lord Charles?”

“I believe I said that I find him to be charming.”

“You did, but I can’t help but wonder why that is.”

Hannah lifted her brow. “Do you not find Lord Charles charming?”

“I never said that,” Kate said. “Dear heavens, we are just going in circles, are we not?”

“I suppose I find his frankness appealing,” she replied. “He speaks his mind and I do not have to wonder where I stand with him.”

Cooper stepped into the room and met Hannah’s gaze. “Lord Charles is here to call upon you, miss,”