"I'll not press you, Miss Lamont, but I must urge you to use caution—"
"As I said, you are mistaken, it — I wasn't — he…"
"Stuttering is never a good sign, Miss Lamont," Graham teased softly, hoping to relieve some of the tension radiating from her.
"Indeed. It is not. Have…" she delicately cleared her throat, "have you seen my older sister?"
The minx surely knew how to steer the attention away from herself!
"In fact, no, I have not," he answered, his tone wary as he studied the innocent expression in her eyes.
"Ah." She nodded.
Graham waited.
She shrugged her shoulders and made an effort to pass him.
He stepped in front of her. "Miss Lamont, I get the feeling you know something that I do not."
"Indeed. I would think that I know a few things that you do not, my lord," she challenged back and took a step to the side, quickly passing him.
"Miss Lamont, may I remind you that I just caught you in what could easily be deemed a compromising situation—"
"There's not need to be threatening," Beatrix ground out as she turned to glare at him.
"Where is your sister?"
"Here."
"In the library?" Graham turned to glance about the room.
"No, here at the manor. I'm sure you'll run into her at supper." The girl gave him an arch grin and all but fled.
"Bloody hell," Graham swore softly. Well, if there was one good thing that came out of his searching, at least he knew that wherever Bethanny was, she wasn't keeping company with Lord Neville.
Rather, the younger sister was.
Interesting.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bethanny tossed her book on the side table as soon as she heard someone twist the knob of her door. It was torture, waiting, not knowing, and yet knowing that he was there.
It was going to drive her mad.
"Bethanny?" Beatrix called softly as she entered the room and closed the door softly behind her. Her brown eyes were twinkling as she bit her lower lip and hurried into room with a whisper of her skirt.
"Yes? Please, in the name of all that is merciful, tell me you have some sort of news. I'm dying up here waiting!" Bethanny spoke earnestly, her desperation evident.
"I saw him." Beatrix's grin widened. "And he was asking about you. He was most insistent! In fact he tried to block my escape, so desperate was he to find out your whereabouts!"
"Truly?" Bethanny asked, her lips spreading into a wide grin.
"Indeed." Beatrix's eyes danced with delight.
"So… what is he doing now? And where did you see him?" Bethanny asked as she bit her lower lip.
"Uh…" Beatrix began then shifted uneasily.
Bethanny felt her brow furrow as she studied the sudden bloom of color that highlighted Beatrix's face, along with the downward glance of her gaze.
"I saw him in the library," she replied, then cleared her throat delicately and strode to the window.
"And? Please, tell me everything!" Bethanny asked.
"And he cornered me and tried to find out where you were. That is simply all." Beatrix shrugged, but she wouldn't make eye contact.
Odd.
"Very well. What did you say then?" Bethanny tried a different approach.
"Ah, well." Beatrix turned to face her then, her eyebrow arching with mischief. "I simply told him that you were here, at the manor. He didn't appreciate my information."
"Ha! I should think not! But it was very clever of you. What did he say then?"
"He wanted to know where at the manor, and I simply said that he'd surely see you at supper. Then I fled before he could question me further!"
Bethanny took a deep breath of delight. "Evening cannot come soon enough. I'm quite certain that today has been the slowest day I've ever endured!"
"Lord Graham surely shares that sentiment!" Beatrix teased.
"Serves him right."
"Indeed it does."
Bethanny glanced to the window and was lost in her own thoughts when she heard her sister's soft question.
"Bethanny… how… that is… you've always been so sure about Lord Graham. There was never another. How did you know that your heart belonged with his? Was there something that happened that offered that insight? Was it simply a feeling?" Beatrix asked tentatively, her hands smoothing her light blue skirt.
Bethanny regarded her sister. "I'm not certain. But I do know that from the first time we met, though I was still quite young, I knew that I wanted him to see me as more than a silly little girl. When I had that opportunity, I took it and ran." Bethanny giggled softly, remembering her flirtation with Lord Graham before he was certain of her identity.
"Oh," Beatrix said, her brow slightly furrowed as if frustrated.
"Why do you ask?" Bethanny placed a soft hand on her sister's shoulder.
"I—"
"Bethanny?" Carlotta's voice came through the door as she softly knocked.
Bethanny offered an apologetic smile to her sister. "Yes," she answered Carlotta.
Carlotta opened the door and entered, followed by Berty. "Ah, good. You are indeed here, Beatrix. I have news, and I wish to tell you all at once." Carlotta's face glowed with joy.
Beatrix and Bethanny shared a glance.
"Indeed? What do you wish to tell us?" Beatrix asked.
"Yes, what's the big secret? She wouldn't tell me till we found the two of you!" Berty placed her hands on her hips.
"Well…" Carlotta gestured to the settee and chairs by the fire, burning low in the grate and then waited for Bethanny and her sisters to sit.
"Now, I have some news to tell you, and I wanted you to hear it from me rather than the gossips of the ton."
"Yes?" Bethanny asked, her suspicions growing.
Carlotta took a deep breath and placed a delicate hand to her abdomen. "You are going to be aunts."
It took a moment for the news to register with Bethanny. With a delighted clap, she stood and moved to embrace her beloved guardian. "Truly? How wonderful! When can we expect to have a little one to spoil? Because you should know now that we intend to do just that!"
Carlotta hugged her back tightly, the scent of lavender gently floating from her skin and offering the comfort of memories to Bethanny. Soon Beatrix and Berty were squealing and offering congratulations as well.
"This is the best news! You must answer Bethanny's question! When? How long must we wait till we can hold the little dear?" Beatrix asked, her face lit up with enchantment.
"I believe very late winter. February," Carlotta answered.
"How long till your confinement?" Berty asked.
"I have a couple months left. So…" Carlotta shifted her gaze to Bethanny, "when this engagement happens between you and Lord Graham, it must be a short one." Carlotta smiled.
"I do not think that will be an issue." Beatrix cut a grin to Bethanny. "He already tried to block my departure from the library, so desperate was he to find her."
"Truly? How wonderful! The duke did indeed have a good plan in keeping you away, dear. He's likely going mad!" Carlotta clapped her hands.
"Bloodthirsty lot. Poor man." Berty shook her head. When Bethanny glared at her, she amended. "I didn't say he didn't deserve it. I quite like the torture he's enduring. It's about time!"
"There's still hours left till evening. What lengths do you think he'll go to in his determination to find Bethanny?" Beatrix asked, a wicked grin teasing her lips.
"One thing is for certain. Whatever lengths he attempts will not be nearly enough. We've ensured that. Supper should prove to be quite entertaining. Don't you agree?" Carlotta grinned.
"Indeed," Bethanny agreed. Though the wait might kill her in the process.
Truly, he felt as if a year had passed in only one day. His impatient nature was making him overly dramatic.
Bloody hell.
When he saw the damnable woman, he was going to snatch her away in front of God and everyo
ne. To hell with the consequences! After all, the consequences were exactly what he was trying to create! Marriage!
A half-mad bark of laughter escaped. To think that no more than few months ago, marriage was the last thing on his mind. Then, as the idea had become more of a necessity, he'd looked upon the blessed union as more of a chore. To think he had come to the point of contemplating compromising the girl in front of her guardian to simply ensure that she'd be his. It was madness. Not to mention suicidal. The duke had made it clear that it was to be Bethanny's choice. So regardless of his impatience or his desire, his love, he couldn't do a damn thing unless the girl wanted him.
Please, Lord, let her want him.
Beatrix had made it clear that Bethanny wouldn't be found till supper, so Graham had gone out to the grounds of Greenford Waters, removing himself from scaring the servants and starting fisticuffs with the other guests. He surely wasn't good company at the moment.
But at least he realized this; surely that must redeem him somewhat.
He paused in his walk and glanced at the regal wood that edged the property. The tall, majestic trees pointed upward, and he followed their direction till his gaze settled on the pale blue sky, dotted with creamy clouds. With a deep breath, he felt his tension recede. Forcing Bethanny's hand, or anyone's hand, for that matter, wouldn't work. And truth be told, he didn't want Bethanny because he'd made sure she didn't have choice; he wanted her to want him, to need him like air.
Like he needed her.
He considered their past and felt ashamed. Either he had taken brazen liberties with her, when his self-control was lacking and his desire had overcome his sane judgment, or he'd pushed her away.
She deserved more.
Hadn't he always said as much. But what she deserved was more from him.
She deserved to be pursued, chased, shown that he would ride to the end of the world to save her, to have her belong to him and him alone.
Or simply ride at breakneck speed from Scotland to Bath.
She needed to see that his desire was far more than simply attraction; it was attachment, a weaving of the fabric of his very soul intertwined with hers. It was knowing that her breath was as vital to him as it was to her, each heartbeat the same. It was telling her that she was beautiful, but not just on the surface, but the deep beauty of a rare woman who has the purity and splendor of a lovely heart. It was the way her smile lit up a room, the way her laugh haunted him, even when she wasn't around.
It was the hope of having daughters who looked exactly like their mother, with decadent brown eyes and silky, coffee-colored hair.
All calling him father.
Now, if only there was some way to communicate that in a few hours, in a few conversations that had to take place in the company of a proper chaperone.
Not likely.
Graham sighed.
There was only one way.
Carlotta.
With a determined stride, Graham made his way back to the house. It was now or never.
Supper had finally arrived. And, of course, Bethanny had spent the past two hours preparing for it. With the utmost care, she had selected her soft yellow dress with the pale blue belt. Molly had gone to great lengths in styling her hair for the evening. The decadent locks were pinned gently around the crown of her head, the candlelight causing a shimmering golden hue to highlight the rich color. Bethanny sighed as she tilted her head slightly in studying her reflection. Indeed, she looked beautiful, but more importantly, she felt beautiful, from the anticipation glowing in her dark brown eyes, to the sky blue slippers she wore. Biting her lip in nervous anxiety for the last few moments to hurry on their way so that she could leave the prison of her room and face her future, she closed her eyes and willed her heart to slow its excited cadence.
Glancing to the door, she debated whether she should arrive early or late. There were other guests in the house, not that she had seen much of them, but surely they would be milling about conversing. That decided, she stood and strode to the door. With a final glance at the mirror, she saw her reflection gazing back at her, a light dancing in her eyes that was born of anticipation and wonder.
Tonight would define her future.
With a fortifying breath, Bethanny strode into the hall. The candlelight danced off the walls, frolicking with the shadows it created. Glancing to Beatrix's door, she paused to listen, curious if her sister was already downstairs or still preparing.
Through the heavy wooden door, she could hear her sister's maid answering her question, and so she continued on.
Would Lord Graham be there already? Waiting for her? Her heart leapt with hope. Hurrying her steps, she took the stairs quicker than usual and was practically running once she hit the marbled floor of the main level hall. Her slippers skidded slightly, and a grin teased her lips. How many times had she and her sisters skated across the highly polished floor in just their stockings? It was tempting, but now was not the time.
"Miss Lamont." A rich voice caressed her name.
Spinning to her left, she watched as Lord Graham strode toward her with the lithe strength that had haunted her memories and invaded her dreams.
"Lord Graham." She forced her voice to be calm, level, unaffected. Her heart was an entirely different matter. It pounded wildly, racing.
His tawny eyes roamed her features, settling on her lips for a fraction of a second longer than the rest of her face. A pained expression lurked in his eyes. "Beautiful as always. You are quite a difficult lady to locate," he added lightly, though his expression was one of deep emotion.
Good.
Let him linger in the unknown as she had for the past weeks. Yet another quiet voice reminded her that he'd had his own demons to fight during that time, as well.
"I would think that I should be exceedingly easy to locate, my lord." She raised a daring eyebrow. "This is my guardian's estate, and it is a house party. And before that, I hadn't strayed further than the occasional ballroom in London."
Lord Graham paused as if weighing his words, his eyebrows darting upward in recognition of her jab. "Indeed. Rather I was referring to locating you this day."
"And I believe that my guardian explained to you that I was… indisposed till supper." It went against her nature to be crisp and coolly polite, yet she needed, with a desperation she couldn't put into words, for him to pursue her. From day one, she had made her affection known, pursued him. Now the tables were turned. For as much as she wanted him, she wanted him to need her just as desperately. If he did, then a little cool aloofness wouldn't hinder him.
"That is true." He nodded. "Since we have a few moments till supper is served, would you do the honor of accompanying me on a short walk?"
More than anything, she wanted to agree, to throw her arms around him and pull him into a kiss that would melt any restraint he might possess, but she remembered the duke's terms and Carlotta's words.
"I'm afraid I cannot, at least not without—"
"Right on time," Lord Graham interrupted, his face lighting up a wide grin that caused his dimples to surface.
Bethanny swallowed hard. As much as his smile had haunted her, nothing was more potent than gazing upon it face to face. He was beautiful, a picture of masculine glory that took her breath away. She startled as Carlotta placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Lord Graham asked for permission to take a walk with you. I went by your room just a moment ago, and upon discovering you had already left, I assumed you'd be here." She smiled encouragingly.
"Yes, thank you," Bethanny murmured to Carlotta.
Lord Graham held out his arm, and Bethanny placed her gloved hand over it, immediately warmed by the simple fact that she was touching him.
"A turn in the back garden would be ideal for such a short walk. Dinner should be served in less than a half hour," Carlotta added helpfully.
"Delightful. Don't you agree, Miss Lamont?" Lord Graham turned to her, his smile soft.
"Indeed." Bethanny nodded, her
heart still hammering. The whole situation felt… awkward. Not necessarily in a bad way, simply because she knew that they needed to talk, and nothing could be said, aside from idle chatter about the weather and nonsense, until they had worked through what had happened.
And what the future held.
And that conversation was surely not going to take place in the small back garden with Carlotta at their heels.
So she remained in purgatory, heaven only a breath away but utterly out of reach. "Are you enjoying your time here at Greenford Waters, Lord Graham?" Bethanny asked, hating the bland topic, but needing desperately for something to speak about, even if to only hear his voice.
"Each moment continues to be better than the last," Lord Graham spoke softly, as if whispering a secret.
Gooseflesh prickled across her skin as she delighted in the soft caress of his voice.
"That is good. What did you do this afternoon?" she asked, her voice slightly higher in pitch, revealing her tension.
"Waited," he answered succinctly.
Bethanny turned her head toward him. "For?" she asked, though she suspected the answer.
"You," he replied quickly, as if any other answer would be utterly ridiculous.
"I see," she replied, not sure how to continue on that topic without going into other things… that shouldn't be said with a chaperone.
"Tell me, Miss Lamont, what did you do this afternoon?" Lord Graham asked after a few moments of silence.
Bethanny glanced about at the small hedge of boxwoods that created a small garden inside of the larger one. "I read, spent time with my sisters. Nothing too terribly exciting." She shrugged.
Lord Graham nodded and continued to lead them on in silence. Carlotta's echoing footsteps were the only noise in the deserted area.
Forget awkward, this is miserable! Bethanny lamented. In all her dreams, in all the hopes she had over the past weeks and especially today, this was not how she'd imagined their reunion. Stilted conversation, silence, and an eagle-eyed chaperone.
This is what she was counting the hours for? Yet there was a bright star in the sky, radiating hope. He had said he had been waiting for her all day; surely he wouldn't let this pathetic conversation be the end of it all.
To Tempt an Earl Page 18