“I’ve no intention of doing so at this point.” He grinned at Belle. “I fear you will find me underfoot more often than you might want.”
She smiled back at him. “I doubt that. I am only a little angry you have not been to visit more often. I feared Julian would consider you a stranger.”
He glanced down at the child who had so suddenly stolen his heart. “You no longer need to fear that,” he said softly.
He took his leave, only nodding to Chloe. For once he felt no desire to tease her. In fact, avoiding her as much as possible seemed the best tactic.
—
He was nearly at the solicitor’s office before he recalled that while he had been procuring a lemonade for Chloe last night, he had been approached by Miss Sutton. She had invited him to attend an afternoon of dancing lessons at her house. She hoped he might consider it even if Chloe had expressed the opinion that he would find it dull, which had been enough to secure his immediate acceptance. Particularly when he had heard Chloe would attend. He had looked forward to proving that he was not nearly the jaded sophisticate she seemed to see him as. Now, the prospect had lost some of its appeal.
This morning had merely been an aberration. Undoubtedly, she would be back to regarding him with the same disapproval as always and he would treat her in the same teasing fashion as if nothing had happened.
In the future, he would avoid any situations in which he found himself alone with her with only a baby as a chaperon.
—
Chloe sat back down at the breakfast table, her thoughts in turmoil. Whatever had happened? For a moment, when her gaze locked with Brandt’s, she had known exactly what he was thinking, but more than that, exactly what he was feeling; she had glimpsed a vulnerable side to him that rendered him completely human. But she had already been thrown off when he had reluctantly taken Julian, the arrogant, cool peer suddenly stripped away by the mere thought of holding a baby. When his face had softened as he looked down at the child and then looked up at her and pronounced him charming, her antagonism had melted away.
“Chloe?”
She realised she had been staring at her toast. “I…I fear I was wool-gathering.”
“I can see that. Are you still worried about last night? Or did Brandt say something to distress you?”
“He said nothing. He was worried about holding Julian.”
Belle smiled. “Men do that. I have never seen Brandt look quite so dismayed as when I told him to hold Julian while I spoke to Mrs Keith. He tried to protest, but I told him it was time he became better acquainted with his godson. I imagine he was overjoyed when you arrived, although I was quite surprised to find him still holding Julian. I would have thought he would wish to hand him over to you straight away.”
“He did, but Julian made it very clear he wanted Brandt again. I told him if he did not take him, Julian would cry.”
Belle laughed. “Very good.” She poured herself another cup of coffee and eyed Chloe. “It does not sound as if you were at daggers drawn then.”
“For once we were not.”
“Good. I rather hope you might become friends of a sort.”
“I doubt that. We do not rub along well together.”
“Are you certain? I rather think it is mostly on your side. I still have no idea why you hold him in such dislike.”
“He is too arrogant, I suppose. He is just the sort of man I do not like very well.” Chloe looked down at her teacup.
“That is unfortunate, for I rather think he likes you,” Belle said gently.
Chloe’s head jerked up. “I doubt that. He teases me mercilessly and seems to delight in annoying me as much as possible.”
“I rather expect he does so to get your attention. Otherwise you tend to snub him.”
Heat stained Chloe’s cheeks. She could not deny the accusation as much as she wanted to. It was not in her nature to deliberately hurt someone, but she had excused her rudeness to Brandt because she doubted he had any feelings to hurt. “I suppose I still cannot forgive him for how he treated you in the beginning. To think that you could possibly be involved in Lucien’s plot to destroy Justin.” She would never forget how cold he was to Belle, the first time Chloe had met him at a musicale. She had detested him on the spot for that alone.
“But that’s in the past. And certainly you disliked Justin equally, but you do not seem to bear any ill will towards him now. If anything, he set out to hurt me whereas Brandt was merely attempting to protect his cousin. Just as you were attempting to protect me.”
“I know.” Certainly her feelings were irrational. When Justin had returned to England a year ago he had every reason to believe that Belle had been an accomplice in Lucien’s plot to destroy Justin’s father by killing Justin in a duel. Instead Lucien had been wounded and Justin had been exiled to the continent. Intent on revenge, he had set out to make Belle his mistress. So, if anything, Chloe should detest Justin, but how could she when he so obviously loved Belle and now Julian? And when he made her so welcome when he could very well detest her as Lucien’s half-sister?
“There is another reason I hope you might come to like Brandt.” Belle paused. “He is soon to become our neighbour.”
With a sinking heart, Chloe knew Mr Rushton had been right. “He’s bought Waverly.”
“How did you know that?”
“Mr Rushton said something about it last night.” She bit her lip. “Why did you not tell me?”
“He asked us not to say anything as there was some dispute over the title that needed to be resolved and he did not want more rumours to complicate the matter. He will complete the purchase of Waverly today.”
“But I cannot imagine why he would want it! It is old and neglected and has no modern conveniences. Why can he not live at Salcombe House?”
“He does not like Salcombe House,” Belle said gently.
“But how can he possibly have the funds to do so?” she blurted out and was instantly ashamed when she saw Belle’s quietly reproving expression. “Oh, Belle, I am so sorry. I should not have said such a rude thing. It is none of my affair at all.”
“No, it is not, but I’ve no doubt others will ask the same thing. He sold most of his unentailed properties in order to pay off his father’s debts and make the necessary improvements to his estate. He invested whatever was left and I assume it is from those monies he is purchasing Waverly.”
“He must want it very much. I suppose I do not understand why.”
Belle looked steadily at Chloe. “I imagine it is because he fell in love with the house the first time he saw it. Just as you did.”
—
Brandt paused for a moment outside the gate to the Suttons’ pleasant brick house. What the devil was he doing? He had no desire to participate in the sort of entertainment he envisioned; a gaggle of young ladies and their admirers going through the steps of the newest dances. Just the sort of rustic entertainment he would expect from an unsophisticated village such as Weyham. The sort of entertainment he had never had the opportunity to enjoy. His mother’s constant illnesses and his father’s rigid morality and cold disregard for most of his neighbours had not encouraged mixing with the local gentry. After his mother’s death, when Brandt finally went out into society, he fell in with the most wild, rakish crowd possible. Not until his father was found dead in one of London’s most notorious brothels did he come to his senses. By then, he was too disillusioned to enjoy such simple pleasures as an afternoon of practising dances.
Which was why he had no idea why he was standing here now.
“Planning to go in, Salcombe?”
Gilbert Rushton’s voice startled him. He turned. “I am still debating.”
“A bit too late for that. Miss Sutton is leaning out of the window. Bad ton if you were to walk away now.” He grinned at Brandt. “Don’t worry, only a couple of hours at the most.”
Miss Sutton was indeed waving at them from a first-floor window. He followed Rushton up the path. “So, Miss Sutt
on talked you into this as well?”
“Precisely. However, when I discovered Lady Chloe would be here, I didn’t need much persuading.”
“Lady Chloe?”
“She’s a deuced pretty gal, clever, and an heiress to boot. Some men might resent a gal who could best them at the table, but not me. Always like a bit of spirit and brains. Besides, one never knows when a way with the cards might prove profitable.”
Brandt was unaccountably annoyed. “I doubt Lady Chloe wishes to exploit her talent for profit.”
By now they had reached the front door. Rushton glanced at him. “Not intruding on your territory, am I?”
“Not at all. I’ve no interest in Lady Chloe. That is, beyond that of a relation.”
“Then no objections if I pursue an acquaintance with her?”
Oh, he objected all right. He hardly wanted her to fall under the charm of a loose screw like Gilbert Rushton. “No, unless you trifle with her.”
“Intentions are strictly honourable.”
That hardly reassured him. But the pink-cheeked housekeeper had opened the door and after taking their coats and hats and Rushton’s cane, ushered them into the sunny, crowded drawing room. The furniture had been pushed aside to clear a space for the dancing. Half a dozen young people were already clustered around the piano. Chloe, however, sat on a small sofa with Sir Preston. She glanced up, her expression astonished, and then looked quickly away. Brandt quelled his desire to march over and say something to fluster her.
Mrs Sutton greeted them with a pleasant smile. “Good day, Gilbert. How delightful to see you, Lord Salcombe. We cannot tell you how splendid it is to have you among us. We so feared Waverly would be pulled down and—” She stopped at his expression. “Oh, dear! I fear I have said something when I should not…”
He had not quite been able to keep the surprise from his face. “Not at all. I have just signed the final papers today so I no longer wish the matter kept private.”
The anxiety left her face. “How delightful!”
“So the rumours were true! Congratulations!” Rushton said.
Everyone else gathered around to offer their congratulations and pleasure at the restorations taking place. Everyone except for Chloe, who hung back, her expression closed. Brandt was annoyed. She might not be delighted, but she could at least offer a token word.
Lydia finally turned to Chloe. “See! I knew Lord Salcombe would come today. He assured me he would not find this at all dull as you said he would.”
“I see,” Chloe said faintly. She did not look at him.
Lydia was all smiles. “Shall we begin? Harriet will play. We will first perform a country dance so Sir Preston might see how it is properly done. Then he can try it.”
Sir Preston tugged at his cravat. “Er, certainly.”
“Do not worry. We can take it very slowly,” Chloe told him. She gave him a reassuring smile.
“But do you not think it will be too confusing if we are all dancing at once?” Emily said. She stood near the pianoforte, observing the company with her usual disdainful gaze. Her eye fell on Brandt. “I think it would be best if Lady Chloe and Lord Salcombe demonstrate the steps first since they have been in London the most recently. I dare say they are the most expert.”
Chloe looked taken aback. “I do not know if that makes me very expert at all.”
“And I rarely dance,” Brandt said. He crossed his arms, his mood surly. He had no intention of forcing himself on Chloe.
“But I was,” Rushton said. “I should be happy to partner Lady Chloe.” He sent her a smile that set Brandt’s teeth on edge.
“Then Lydia may partner Lord Salcombe,” Emily said.
Lydia, who had looked increasingly annoyed at Emily’s interruption, suddenly brightened. “That is a splendid idea. Two couples will make it much more easy to observe.”
“Here, here. Now that we’ve settled that, let’s get on with it,” Tom Coltrane said. He stood near the pianoforte with Henry Ashton, attempting to affect a look of bored amusement.
They took their places in the middle of the room and Harriet launched into an uneven country dance. Brandt, who had danced at numerous balls with the most haughty members of the ton in attendance, suddenly found himself attacked by an unexpected bout of self-consciousness because he was on display in front of a mere handful of people. Harriet’s choppy rhythm and the fact she tended to repeat passages whenever she hit a wrong note made keeping time nearly impossible. Rushton’s low-voiced flirtation with Chloe threw Brandt off further. And when he handed off Lydia and found himself reaching for Rushton’s hand, he had no idea whether to laugh or curse.
“Sorry,” Rushton said. “Lydia, where are you? Salcombe, here, you take Lady Chloe.”
The others were beginning to titter. She stared at him and he saw her mouth begin to quiver. “Chloe?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
“Y…yes.” She bit her lip and then a laugh escaped her. She stopped and Lydia careened into her. “Oh, dear…P…please do not say anything more.” She clapped her hand over her mouth and he saw she was laughing.
He grinned. The rest of the company was now laughing except for Lydia. “Oh, do stop!” she cried. “It was not that dreadful!”
“But it was!” Tom held his sides. “Is that what they do in London? Had some idea those ton balls were a bit stodgy! Seems I was wrong!”
Even Sir Preston was grinning. “Could have shown you that myself.”
Lydia marched over to the pianoforte. “Harriet! Could you not have tried?”
Harriet jumped up. “I told you I hate to play for dances!” She looked as if she were about to burst into tears.
“Never mind, Harriet,” Emily said briskly. “Dances are always difficult. You can stand up with Tom, and I will play this time.” She gave her brother, who was still wiping his eyes, a meaningful look.
“Er, yes.” Tom held his arm out to Harriet. She beamed at him as they took their places along with the others.
This time everything went smoothly. When it was over, Emily stood. “I know you play most delightfully, Lady Chloe. Perhaps you can play this time and I will show Sir Preston the proper steps.”
Brandt glanced at Chloe in time to see a peculiar look cross her face. She glanced at Sir Preston and finally said, “I fear I am like Harriet and cannot play for dances.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Emily said. The smile she bestowed upon Chloe was hardly sincere.
“Do play, Chloe!” Lydia said.
Chloe walked to the instrument and sat down, but it was obvious she was not pleased. Emily took Sir Preston’s hand and then went through the steps in her no-nonsense fashion. When the dance began, it was apparent Emily’s instructions had been adequate; Sir Preston only misstepped once.
After that, Mrs Sutton bustled in, followed by the housekeeper who carried a tray of refreshment. Despite the cheerful chatter of everyone else, Chloe seemed subdued and distracted. Brandt, intending to keep his distance, instead found he wanted to inquire what was wrong. Before he could extricate himself from Lydia, Gilbert Rushton took the place next to Chloe on the sofa. He said something to her, and she gave him a slight smile that set Brandt’s back up.
“Do you plan to make your home at Waverly, Lord Salcombe?” Lydia was asking him.
“Yes, I am, Miss Sutton.”
“But you will keep a house in town, will you not? I imagine you must find Weyham very dull after the delights of town.”
“Not at all. We rarely have entertainments such as this in London.”
“But you will be going to London often.”
“Do you wish to see me gone from the neighbourhood so soon, Miss Sutton?”
She coloured. “Oh, no! I merely thought that you would wish to go there often.”
“Actually, I don’t intend to spend much time at all in London except when necessary. Waverly will keep me occupied.”
She looked disappointed for some reason. Miss Coltrane, who seemed to have appointed h
erself in charge of the entertainment, stood. “We can practice the waltz. However, this time Lord Salcombe and Lady Chloe must first demonstrate.”
Brandt looked over at Chloe and waited for the inevitable reason why she could not stand up with him. She met his sardonic gaze and lifted her chin. “I would be glad to do so if Lord Salcombe does not object.”
“I do not object, as long as you don’t, Lady Chloe.”
“I thought that was what I just said.” She came to his side.
“So, what has made you decide you would care to stand up with me after all?” he murmured.
“If you must know, I still owe you a dance. I merely wished to repay my debt.”
He’d nearly forgotten about that. “Ah, although performing the waltz in someone’s drawing room was hardly what I had in mind.”
Miss Coltrane played a few notes and then peered around the music at them. “I believe the gentleman is to take the lady’s hand and then put his hand at her waist.”
“If you don’t know the waltz, Salcombe, I can take your place,” Rushton said.
Brandt started. “Should we proceed, Lady Chloe?” He held up his hand.
She placed her hand in his. While he put his other hand on the small of her back. Miss Coltrane began the music. After a moment of hesitation, Chloe followed his lead easily. He forgot he was in a small drawing room with an assortment of onlookers—he was only aware of the pleasurable feel of her slender back, the delicate touch of her hand in his, the face so sweetly upturned towards him, her mouth soft and inviting. A vision of crushing those lips beneath his made him catch his breath.
He heard her own intake of breath and her eyes widened as if she guessed his desire. The music came to an abrupt halt and he jerked his gaze away. What the hell was he doing, practically making love to her in the middle of the afternoon in a country drawing room? He dropped his hands and gave a slight bow. “Thank you for the dance, Lady Chloe.”
She curtsied. “Thank you, Lord Salcombe.” She did not quite look at him.
There was silence and then Rushton applauded. “Splendid! A worthy performance that quite makes up for the less than spectacular beginning.”
The Viscount's Bride Page 3