by Ella Quinn
Yet, instead of her smiling adoringly at him, she answered coolly with a polite smile. “Thank you for saying so. You are very kind.”
Somehow he would have to discover the way to make her passion flare.
Elizabeth had looked forward to this dance with him all night as well. For reasons she could not explain, and despite her misgivings, she found herself drawn to him. She longed to find out how it felt to be in his arms. Still, she was not about to tell Lord Harrington that. With great difficulty, she managed to keep her response to him polite and nothing more.
Her waist warmed when his hand held her firmly, and even through their gloves, she felt a connection. He would be a kind, if not the most attentive, husband, and she wished to marry and have children. How easy it would be to simply encourage him to propose. But was that not exactly what she did not like about him? His willingness to wed without love.
Dotty’s whispered advice rang in Elizabeth’s ears.
Make him fight for you. If he is worthy of your regard, he must prove it. You deserve a man who will love you.
Her friend was right, and Elizabeth knew in her heart she could never be happy without the chance of a love match.
At the beginning of the Season, she had been willing to please her father and had done all she could to attach Lord Merton. Now though, she decided it was much better to please herself than anyone else. After all, she was the one who had to live with the man, and getting rid of a husband was next to impossible.
The music began and they twirled around the room. Unlike some gentlemen she knew, Lord Harrington did not attempt to hold her closer during the turns. Did that mean he was not attracted to her, or was he merely being proper?
“You dance extremely well,” he said.
“It is easy when one’s partner is skilled.” Elizabeth knew she was prevaricating. Still, she could not let him think he had won her over before he showed in some way that he cared for her beyond mere compatibility.
In fact, he danced exceedingly well. She felt as light as a feather being steered around the floor. His hand was firm and sure on her waist, and she found herself wanting to draw him closer, lean into him. No other man, not even Lord Merton, made her feel so . . . warm.
Lord Harrington smiled down at her, and she wondered if he felt the same something between them that she did. She would see. Despite knowing that he was in a hurry to find a wife, Elizabeth would not be rushed. This was for the rest of her life, and she had to get it right.
Once again their conversation revolved around the events in Brussels. He told her of a conversation he’d had early this evening with a friend who was in the Life Guards. Actually, she was fascinated by the personalities and the squabbles that seemed to abound.
When he told her a story he’d heard about a Prussian delegate, he used several German phrases. He did not appear astonished when she responded in the same language, but smiled as if he had been proven correct in something.
“How many languages do you speak?” he asked.
“Four, including English.” His smile at her answer reminded Elizabeth of the one her governess used to give her when she had done particularly well in her lessons.
Despite that, she enjoyed dancing with him, and she was not prepared for the set to end. When his hand left her waist, all the warmth left as well.
All too soon, he was escorting her back to her aunt.
“Which balls do you plan to attend this week?”
“To be honest, I do not know. My aunt receives and accepts the invitations.”
He seemed perturbed as his deep blue gaze focused on her. “I would like to request a set at each of the balls or other entertainments that will have dancing.”
Only one dance? Surely if he was interested in courting her he would ask for two. That brought her back to the way he had courted her friend. It was as if he did not care enough to request more dances if only to spend more time with the lady he professed to be courting. Any man Elizabeth married would have to enjoy spending time with her in whatever form it took. Nevertheless, perhaps it was more than he had requested before. “Very well. I do not know which ones are available.”
He stopped their amble to her family. “I would like the supper dances, if you have them.”
She gave him a small smile. “If they are available, they are yours, my lord.”
They joined her brother and aunt. Once in the supper room, Gavin quickly found a table for them. He held a chair for her aunt, and Lord Harrington held Elizabeth’s chair.
Ever since the evening her cousin, Lavinia, had attempted to arrange for Lord Merton to compromise Elizabeth, her brother had insisted he escort Aunt and Elizabeth to their entertainments. Not that their aunt had anything to do with what her cousin had done. Aunt would have been appalled. Elizabeth did not think Gavin could be having much fun, but she was thankful all the same. She felt more secure when he was around. Papa would never think it was his duty, even though it was.
When her brother and Lord Harrington went to obtain food and drink, her aunt leaned toward her. “How is it going with Harrington?”
“I am not sure.” She faced her aunt and spoke in a low tone so as not to be overheard. “I have never had a gentleman be so happy that I was able to speak other languages or discuss politics. Although, considering he will be a diplomat, that might not be surprising. He made a point of asking me for one set at every ball and dance, but no more.” Elizabeth was sure he had felt the same connection she had, but he did not appear to wish to spend more time with her. She had never been so confused by a gentleman’s behavior. “I do not know what that means, what he means.”
“That he’s a slow top,” her aunt said with disgust. “It is exactly this type of wishy-washy conduct that caused him to lose Lady Charlotte.”
“I think you might be right,” Elizabeth said slowly as she thought how differently Lord Kenilworth treated her friend. He hardly left her side, and when Charlotte danced with other men, his entire focus was on her and no other. Merton and Rothwell had—and still did—behave in the same fashion with Dotty and Louisa.
Lord Harrington appeared interested in Elizabeth. Yet he did not act like a man who needed the woman he would marry for herself. She was certain more time in her company would allow them to grow closer. Would that change his behavior, or would she have to find a way to bring him around, or was he not interested in her? And if it was up to her, what should she do? She did not know how to suggest they spend more time together. Elizabeth felt like throwing up her hands.
Gavin and Lord Harrington returned to the table followed by a footman carrying a tray, bringing an end to her musing.
“Your brother was kind enough to show me the foods you liked best.” Harrington smiled at her as he took the seat next to hers. “I hope you agree.”
She glanced at the plates filled with her favorite fare and selected a macaroon. “I do indeed. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure entirely.” He smiled again before applying himself to a lobster patty.
The conversation—for the third time today—revolved around the coming conflict with Napoleon and the difficulty Wellington was having assembling his old staff and other officers.
“I heard that they are bringing regiments back from America as quickly as can be,” Elizabeth said.
“They are indeed.” Lord Harrington gave her another approving look. “But whether they’ll arrive in time is anyone’s guess. Not only that, but there are too many raw recruits.”
She had heard from one of Gavin’s friends at the Horse Guards that Wellington wanted his old Peninsular army back. “At least the peace treaty with the Americans has been signed, and the longer Napoleon remains in Paris, the more likely it is that Wellington will be able to gather the army he wants.”
Lord Harrington turned to her. “How come you to be so well versed?”
“I believe it is important to be informed,” Elizabeth said. Not to mention that her friends, Louisa and Charlotte, were also adaman
t about knowing all there was to know about politics and the situation in France, and they had spent a great deal of time discussing the state of affairs and what it meant for England.
When Harrington smiled at Elizabeth this time, it almost reminded her of the look her dancing master gave her when she had done particularly well. Wonderful. First her governess, now her dancing master. That was not the type of response she wished to see in a potential husband.
Aunt Bristow rose and Gavin and Lord Harrington scrambled to their feet. “This is all very well, but it is time we took our leave.” She inclined her head. “My lord, perhaps we shall see you later.”
“I look forward to it, my lady.” He bowed to Aunt before taking Elizabeth’s hand. She sucked in a breath as her fingers began to tingle under his touch. “Until tomorrow evening.”
She dipped a shallow curtsey. At least he had touched her hand this time. Yet her response was entirely inappropriate considering she did not even know if he liked her. Perhaps her aunt was right and he was just a slow top, and did not know how to express himself. “Until then, my lord.”
Gavin escorted her and their aunt to the hall. “It looks like things are going well.”
Aunt snorted. “Trust a man to think that.”
“I don’t understand.” His brows lowered as he speared her with a look. “They danced together and he joined us for supper. What more do you want?”
“Two dances, my boy.” Aunt rapped his arm with her fan. “And an invitation to drive out with your sister.” When Gavin didn’t appear to understand her meaning, she heaved a sigh. “Any gentleman seriously pursuing a lady in hopes of marrying her should be spending much more time with the object of his desire.”
After a few seconds, a light appeared in his blue eyes. “I hadn’t thought about it, but you are absolutely correct.” He helped them into their coach. “I won’t be back until late this evening, and tomorrow I am going out of Town for a day or two. I will see you when I return.”
Aunt Bristow’s already massive chest puffed out with indignation. “You promised to assist Elizabeth.”
“And so I shall.” Gavin’s eyes twinkled wickedly. “Trust me.”
“I suppose we must.” Elizabeth waved as the coach left. She hoped he would return soon. What could he be up to?
Chapter Six
Geoff said farewell to Miss Turley before making his way back to his grandmother and Cousin Apollonia.
He had been quite pleased with the progress he’d made with Miss Turley this evening. He was certain that if he’d held her closer during their waltz, she would have allowed it. Perhaps the next time they danced a waltz he would test his theory. The idea of her body closer to his made his cock harden. Still, even if he did not choose to skirt propriety, in a few days he should be able to speak with her father and arrange their marriage.
His two older relatives were in close conversation when he arrived at the sofa they occupied.
He waited until Apollonia had paused for a breath before saying, “Shall I escort you home now?”
Grandmamma’s thin, silver brows drew together as she gazed up at him. “The question is are you ready to leave? The night is still young and you have danced with only one of the ladies on your list and that just the once.”
“It turns out that Miss Turley is the lady I wish to wed.” He wasn’t about to tell his grandmother about the snub Lady Mary gave him. Aside from that, he was happy with his choice. “She has granted me a set for each of this week’s entertainments.”
“Only one?” Cousin Apollonia’s brows now resembled Grandmamma’s. “That does not sound promising. If the lady was interested in you, she would have granted you two sets.”
“I only requested one,” he said, trying to keep the indignation from his voice. Both his cousin and his grandmother cast glances to the ceiling. What the devil was the matter with them? And how irritating it was that they reacted in the exact manner. “What else would you have me do?”
Grandmamma rose, and Apollonia followed less than a second behind her. “We are ready to depart.”
Geoff escorted them to the hall and they waited while their carriage was brought around. His two relatives shared the gossip they had heard until he helped them into his grandmother’s coach. “I shall walk from here.”
“You will accompany us,” Grandmamma commanded as if she was speaking to a recalcitrant child.
For a moment he thought of denying her, but that would accomplish nothing. He climbed into the carriage, taking the backward-facing seat. The inner lights had been lit, enabling him to see their expressions clearly. “I take it you wish to speak with me?”
“Indeed I do.” She sighed and shook her head. “However, I require a glass of sherry for this discussion.”
Perdition! Geoff detested waiting. Whatever he’d done to upset her, he wanted to have it out sooner rather than later. But by the look on their countenances, he was not going to get his way.
Several minutes later, his grandmother was sitting on a small sofa next to the drawing room fireplace that had been lit. Cousin Apollonia sank onto a chair next to the sofa, farther away from the heat.
Geoff had poured both ladies glasses of sherry. He stood, his elbow braced along one edge of the mantel. “Apparently, I have done something to upset you.”
“Apollonia, dear, please pour Harrington a brandy, unless you would prefer wine?”
“Brandy is fine, but—”
“And take a seat,” Grandmother said acerbically. “I don’t like to have to look up at you. It makes my neck hurt.”
He moved from the fireplace to the sofa across from her as his cousin handed him a goblet of brandy. “I very much wish you will tell me what all this is about. Quite frankly, I’m all at sea.”
“I imagine you are.” Grandmamma’s tone had dried considerably. “Have you or have you not decided to court Miss Turley?”
“I have. Indeed, I am in the process of doing so.” Hadn’t he already told them that? Why else would he have made a point of making sure his name was on her dance cards for the next week?
“Are you, indeed?” One of Grandmother’s brows rose, and she speared him with her dark gaze for a few moments before saying, “You do not behave as if you are courting her.”
He glanced at his cousin, but there was no help there. She took a swallow of wine and said, “Have you made arrangements to take her riding, or walking?”
Geoff felt like squirming, but did not know why. “No. I have not.”
“And you are standing up with the lady only once at each ball, and dancing with other ladies as well?” Apollonia asked as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Naturally.” He wanted to tug on his cravat. It had not felt this tight all evening. “I am a gentleman. It would not do to ignore other ladies. I do not understand what the two of you are getting at.”
“You were right.” Grandmother glanced at Apollonia and shook her head. “He is not in love.”
“I am sorry to say that was clear when he did not remain by her side, ma’am.” His cousin’s lips formed a moue. “He wasn’t in love with the other one either.”
“I do believe you are correct. If he is going to marry, he clearly needs our help.”
Geoff’s jaw began to ache, and he was becoming more than a little tired of hearing them discuss him as if he was not present. Finally, he bit out, “Help. With. What?”
His cousin’s eyes widened. “Your courtship, of course. What else would we be discussing?” She slid a look to Grandmamma before continuing. “It’s become clear to us that you have no idea how to conduct a successful campaign for a wife.”
His grandmother nodded. “Indeed. You are making a complete shambles of it.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Excuse me?”
“Do you even like the girl?” Cousin Apollonia shot at him.
Geoff should have known even the tone he used to depress pretentions wouldn’t work on her. “Of course, I do.”
He would never consider marrying a lady for whom he had no affection at all. He had even struck Miss whatshername from his list because he would not like to wed her. And he had been glad—relieved was more like it—when Lady Mary refused him. “One must have amiable relations with one’s wife.”
“But you do not love her.” His cousin’s tone was one of complete disgust.
“I fail to see what love has to do with marriage.” Geoff could name any number of couples who had wed for love and were miserable. He would choose not to be unhappy in his marriage.
“You would know what you were about if you were in love. Be that as it may”—his grandmother’s fingers fluttered—“you require help, and we have decided to assist you.”
“As long as”—his cousin’s eyes narrowed ominously—“you like the lady.”
“Well, I do.” He gave a decisive nod. “We are extremely compatible. She speaks all the required languages of a diplomat’s wife, she has an excellent seat”—that was according to her brother—“she is able to drive her own carriage, and she is well versed on English and European events. She also wishes to travel.”
“Oh, good Lord.” He’d swear Apollonia rolled her eyes. “But do you feel anything for Miss Turley?”
Geoff thought about it for a moment. He must like her. After all, he enjoyed being in Miss Turley’s company even more than he liked being with Lady Charlotte. He even wanted to kiss her. Well, more than merely kiss her. He had a strong desire to see her naked in his bed with her long blond curls around her. He had never felt such an intense desire to have a lady before. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
His grandmother and cousin exchanged looks. Finally, Grandmamma said, “Give him the list.”
Rising, Cousin Apollonia went to a small cherry writing desk with a tooled brown leather and gilt inset, drew out a sheet of paper, and handed it to him. “You must follow these instructions unreservedly.”