Unconventional Suitors 01 - Her Unconventional Suitor

by Ginny Hartman

  For some odd reason, Gillian felt guilty for giving him the wrong impression about her and Lord Evander, that is until he arose from his bow and his eyes quickly flickered towards her, giving her a shrewd perusal. Gillian felt as if he was undressing her with his eyes, and her body began to flush. How was it that the dratted man could illicit more feelings from her with a single look than Lord Evander could with his kiss?

  Gillian sat back in her chair and folded her arms angrily across her chest. The man had ruined her for any other man, and that simply would not do. She’d just have to try harder to forget him, she concluded. But though she told herself that, her eyes, of their own accord, scanned the theatre, hoping to catch a glimpse of him and Miss Graham. And though she convinced herself that it was only to ensure that her friend was safe from the vexing man’s charms, she knew that was only partially true.

  Chapter 10

  Benedict felt eyes boring into the back of his head for the remainder of the performance. He itched to turn around and see if it was Lady Gillian’s gaze causing his skin to burn, but he was afraid he’d be disappointed to learn that it was only Marcus glaring at him. His friend had escorted Lady Elizabeth to the theatre in an attempt to keep an eye on his sister, making sure that Benedict knew he was being watched closely so he’d remain on his best behavior. But what Marcus didn’t know, was that Benedict no longer had eyes for any other woman after having partaken of Lady Gillian’s tempting kisses.

  As soon as Fredolfo ended and the applause from the crowd died down, a farce called A Roland for an Oliver began. Benedict quickly grew bored and restless and when a quick glance at Miss Graham showed that she wasn’t particularly enthused either, he leaned into her and said, “I need your help.”

  Miss Graham startled but quickly recovered as she turned her head towards him and said in hushed tones, “My help? Whatever for?”

  “How well do you know Lady Gillian?”

  “Not terribly well, though I wouldn’t be opposed to furthering my acquaintance with her. She seems like such a lovely girl.”

  “I need your help in getting her attention.” Miss Graham whipped her head behind her, scanning the crowds. “Not right now,” he said hastily as he put one hand up and guided her head back so it was facing forward. He felt hot and hoped that Lady Gillian hadn’t noticed Miss Graham’s searching gaze.

  “Do you wish to speak to her after the performance then?”

  Benedict dipped his head close to her ear and whispered, “I need your help in getting her to notice me as a man.”

  “Oh,” Miss Graham gasped. After a few thoughtful seconds she continued, “I’m not sure how I can be of service to you, but perhaps I could offer you some helpful advice.”

  Benedict waited eagerly for her to reveal some secret piece of advice that would ensure his victory. Instead, he was disappointed when she said, “Perhaps if you met with my brother’s tailor and had a new wardrobe commissioned, you would find it easier to gain Lady Gillian’s attention.”

  Benedict thought about feigning shock at her advice, but he was too weary to play dumb with her. “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean you cannot? Is it that you do not have the funds? I normally would not dare ask such a personal question, but you are like a brother to me and I am certain that if you are in need of some assistance, Marcus would be willing to help you.”

  Benedict was galled by her suggestion that he borrow money from Marcus. His pride was utterly wounded. “Your brother is part of the reason for my appearance.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  Benedict silently mulled over in his mind how much information he should divulge. “If I tell you something, do you swear to keep it a secret?”

  Miss Graham’s face lit up. “Oh, I do love a good secret, and I’ve always been extraordinary at keeping my lips sealed. Do bare your soul to me.”

  Benedict chuckled. “I’m not exactly baring my soul, but I trust you, and I do need your help. I’m not choosing to be unfashionable of my own accord. I have plenty of funds, and I’ve already had a completely new wardrobe commissioned upon my return. Your brother, along with Lord Straton and Lord Dawkins convinced me to re-enter society disguised as an unfashionable half-wit.”

  “Why ever would they do that?”

  “It was a bet, a foolish wager.”

  Miss Graham sighed as she rolled her eyes at him, “I thought you all had grown out of that silly nonsense years ago. I remember when I was younger witnessing several of your foolish bets play out and wondering what could possibly be so amusing about making fools out of one another. Remember that time that you bet Lord Dawkins that he could not climb to the very top of the highest apple tree in the gardens, and so he set out to prove you all wrong?”

  Benedict chuckled at the memory. “Yes, I remember it well. That was not one of Warren’s finer moments, and I am certain he would be appalled to know that you remember it so vividly.”

  “But how could I ever forget the way he screamed like a frightened little girl when a snake slithered across the branch of the tree? He was so paralyzed with fear he refused to come down for hours.”

  “I finally had to go up after him. Do you remember?”

  “Ah yes, you saved the day,” she said with amusement.

  “I haven’t thought about that event for years. Perhaps I should bring it up sometime and use it to my advantage.”

  “On no,” She exclaimed, her eyes widening in alarm, “you cannot say a word, for it would embarrass Lord Dawkins to no end.”

  “Precisely,” Benedict said smugly, a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

  “Lord Danford, promise me you will not breathe a word of that incident to Lord Dawkins, or I shall refuse to assist you with Lady Gillian.”

  He looked at Miss Graham strangely, “Why are you being so protective of Warren? What has he done to win your favor?”

  Miss Graham blushed as she began fanning her face furiously. “Nothing,” she spat irritatedly. “I just do not wish to see him embarrassed by something that happened years ago when he was merely a lad.”

  “I do not believe that is all there is to it, my lady. If I did not know better I would think you harbor a secret tendre for Warren.”

  Benedict didn’t know it was possible for a lady’s cheeks to turn such a deep shade of scarlet, but Miss Graham proved him wrong. He was sorely tempted to goad her further but he didn’t want to press his luck. He needed her assistance. “Do not worry, your secret is safe with me,” he finally conceded.

  Her fan continued to flutter back and forth wildly. “You better make good on your word, my lord, or I will tell the entire ton that you are merely disguising as a fool to amuse your friends.”

  “Fair enough, though I have not told you the worst of it yet. Not only do I have to wear such outlandish clothing, I am to convince Lady Gillian that she is in love with me and get her to agree to marry me by the season’s end.”

  Miss Graham began coughing, her blue eyes widening with surprise. “Pardon me, my lord, but do I believe this may be the most idiotic bet yet. You do not convince someone that they are in love, you court them and romance them and let the rest happen naturally. You cannot mean to wed Lady Gillian simply because you were dared to do so. How ridiculous that you would wed a lady simply because your friends find it amusing.”

  Benedict felt his ire beginning to rise. “There is more to it than that, but I do not wish to divulge the remaining conditions of the bet. Suffice it to say that I am committed to wedding Lady Gillian, whether you agree to it or not.”

  “But do you not see how unfair that is? Does Lady Gillian not deserve to be courted by someone who truly desires her and cares for her companionship?”

  Benedict thought about her question—oh he desired Lady Gillian all right, more than he ought, and if he was being honest with himself, he would admit that the line between securing a victory and securing her heart had already begun to blur.

  “Listen, I do not wish to hurt Lady G
illian or rob her of what she deserves.” When Miss Graham gave him a doubtful look, he ignored it and continued, “I do have feelings for her and desire to pursue her and not just because of the bet. Please, if you will agree to help me, I may be able to assist you where Warren is concerned. I may have considerable sway over him once I win this bet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Suffice it to say that I am positive he would give considerable consideration to my advice on love once he sees that I have successfully won Lady Gillian’s heart.”

  Miss Graham closed her fan and began tapping it slowly, methodically against her hand. “So let me get this straight—if I help you make Lady Gillian jealous, you will help persuade Lord Dawkins to see me as something more than his friends obnoxious kid sister?”

  Benedict smiled. “Precisely.”

  ***

  Gillian was positively fuming by the time she returned to her family’s townhouse on Grosvenor Square. She stalked straight to her room to avoid having to speak to anyone about her evening. She had been so busy observing Lord Danford and Miss Graham talking with their heads close together, that she had failed to pay even a bit of attention to the remainder of the performance. She couldn’t even recall the name of the final play.

  Her lady’s maid, Sarah, seemed to sense her sour mood and wisely kept quiet as she helped her from her gown into a thin cotton night dress. Gillian went and sat at her dressing table while Sarah pulled the pins from her hair and began brushing it in long, soothing strokes. Gillian sighed as her eyes fluttered closed, trying to let go of the irritation she felt.

  Why did seeing Lord Danford with Miss Graham vex her so? They had both appeared highly amused with one another as they conversed animatedly throughout the entire last production, and as each minute ticked by, Gillian had become increasingly more agitated. Perhaps she was jealous of Miss Graham and the personal attention she was receiving from Lord Danford.

  The thought made her eyes flash open. She stared at herself in the looking glass, unwisely comparing her looks to those of Miss Graham’s. They both had brown hair, but while Miss Graham’s was a rich chestnut shade, Gillian’s was dark and sleek. She arched her eyebrows as she looked into her eyes that matched her hair. They were so uninteresting, she thought woefully as she thought of Miss Graham’s large blue ones. Her spirit sunk dejectedly as she compared herself to the lovely Miss Graham. It was easy to see why Lord Danford would prefer the girl to her.

  As soon as Sarah had plaited her hair and tied it off with a ribbon, Gillian excused the girl. She crawled into her bed and pulled her coverpane, the color of a robin’s egg, up to her chin and sighed. Why did it matter if Lord Danford preferred Miss Graham to her? He wasn’t exactly the type of gentleman she wanted courting her, and her mother certainly did not like the unfashionable earl paying her any mind. But though logic said one thing, her heart said another.

  Gillian thought once more to the kiss they had shared in the library. The thought of Lord Danford kissing Miss Graham filled her with an unreasonable amount of jealousy. It wasn’t fair to think that she could spend her days kissing the lusty earl while Gillian was stuck facing a future with nothing but Lord Evander’s passionless kisses to occupy her.

  Gillian flung herself onto her back and stared up at the canopy above. Maybe she just needed to kiss the right man. But realistically she knew that she couldn’t very well go around London kissing any willing gentleman in hopes of recreating what she experienced with Lord Danford. She’d be labeled a wanton for sure. The conundrum she was in vexed her nearly as much as Lord Danford himself. One thing was for certain, the man’s kisses had the power to stir a lady’s feelings into an uproar.

  Perhaps, Gillian thought hopefully, Miss Graham had yet to experience one of his earth-shattering kisses. She sat up suddenly in her bed, swinging her legs over the side of the mattress. She was overcome with a desire to warn Miss Graham of the danger Lord Danford could cause and quickly made her way to her writing desk.

  Pulling a piece of parchment from the drawer, she took her quill and dipped it in to a pot of ink and began writing furiously: Miss Graham-

  I hope you do not find me forward in writing you this letter, but I feel compelled to warn you of impending danger before it is too late. The Earl of Danford is not what he seems, and I do not wish to see your emotions toyed with if you continue your association with the man. I urge you to disassociate with the earl at once, if you do not wish to experience any inevitably perplexing situations that will no doubt leave you feeling confused and ashamed.

  Sincerely a concerned friend,

  Lady Gillian

  Gillian sprinkled some sand across the paper to dry the ink, then gently brushed it off before folding the parchment into thirds. She would have the letter delivered first thing in the morning. Perhaps her warning would reach Miss Graham before it was too late.

  Chapter 11

  “It would seem that our plan may already be working.”

  “What do you mean?” Benedict asked Miss Graham as she sat next to him on the settee in his drawing room.

  She undid the drawstring on her reticule and promptly procured a folded piece of parchment. “She sent me this,” she said as she thrust the missive towards him.

  Benedict anxiously took the letter and unfolded it. His eyes scanned the contents quickly before letting out a loud guffaw. “She sent you this?” he asked with amusement, unsure if he could truly believe that the words had indeed been penned by Lady Gillian herself.

  “I certainly didn’t write it,” she snapped, somewhat annoyed by his doubt. “I received it just this morning. Perhaps seeing us together at the Theatre Royal has already begun to make her jealous.”

  Benedict glanced back to the letter in his hands. “This letter does not make her sound jealous; it makes it sound like she thinks me the worst sort of cad.”

  “Have you done something to give her that impression?” Miss Graham asked bluntly.

  Perhaps he had, he thought, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. Ignoring her question he asked, “The real question is, what are we going to do now?”

  “Well despite what you may have done to offend the lady, I am certain that this letter proves she was at least moderately jealous last evening. I think we should continue on our course and see how she responds.”

  Silence ensued for but a moment, when all of a sudden, Miss Graham’s eyes lit up with a mischief that he had often seen in Marcus’s own eyes.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked her wearily.

  “I have a most excellent idea, my lord. Do you remember my sister Bethany?”

  “Of course,” he answered for he remembered her well. She was perhaps the most outlandish of the Graham siblings, quite the hoyden with a propensity for lightheartedness that used to get her in a fair amount of trouble when they were children.

  “She wed the Viscount Cantrell in your absence, and they are both in London for the season. I will ask her to host a dinner party and we will invite Lady Gillian to attend. It will be the perfect opportunity to further our plan. What say you?”

  “It sounds like a very fine plan, indeed,” he answered honestly, very much liking the idea.

  “Very well,” She said as they both rose. “I will see to the details and keep you informed of the plans. I’m positive Bethany will be delighted to host a dinner party, for she has always loved to entertain.”

  “Will you be inviting Marcus?”

  “But of course. I cannot very well ask my sister to plan a dinner party and not invite our eldest brother.”

  “I suppose,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure he was fond of the idea of spending time in both Miss Graham and Lady Gillian’s company with Marcus present. It made him weary.

  “Very well. And If you could manage to wear something a little lest ghastly to the dinner party then you did to the Barringtide Ball, my reputation and I would greatly appreciate it.”

  Benedict smiled as he saw her out. “I will see wh
at I can do. In the meantime I will look for you at Almack’s on Wednesday evening.”

  “Very well.”

  As soon as Miss Graham had left, Benedict rang the bell and instructed the servants to remove the unused tea service from the drawing room. Just as the last remnants of his visit were being removed, his mother wandered into the room, a perplexed look on her face. “Have we had company that I was not made aware of?”

  Benedict straightened. “Miss Graham, Mr. Graham’s sister made a brief visit. It was nothing of great importance.”

  “Miss Graham is it? According to the latest on dits, it’s Lady Gillian you have set your cap for,” she said angrily as she thrust a newspaper into his chest. Benedict took the paper and scanned its contents for whatever it was she was referring to. “Look here,” she said impatiently as she pointed to a column near the bottom of the page.

  Benedict’s eyes settled on Mrs. Tiddlyswan’s gossip column and began to read. It was full of ill reported gossip and scandal amongst the gentry, and as he continued to read the boring information, he had a sinking suspicion that his name would appear. Sure enough, near the bottom of the article his name stood out from the page as if it had been written in bold, angry letters: It appears that the newly minted Earl of Danford has been busy upon his return to England in his hurried attempt to find a wife. He has been seen pouring his attention heavily upon the Duke of Chesley’s oldest daughter, Lady Gillian, though with his outdated and ragged clothing it is a wonder she hasn’t given him the cut direct. It baffles the author how two years abroad can render a former rake so unfashionably out of touch with haute couture. Just the other evening, the author has it on good report that the earl fled the Barringtide ball in a flustered state of dishabille with the seam of his dress coat torn wide open. It makes one wonder what scandalous activity he was involved in that caused such an embarrassing blunder to occur. My cheeks are heating up just thinking about the possibilities.