For now. Hudson’s chest caught. Surely she didn’t mean that the way every rapid beat of his heart wished she meant it. The idea that she might look at him with even a fraction of the desire he shared for her… No, he didn’t mind one whit.
He sent her a crooked grin. “You are a woman of many surprises.”
“Surprises? You don’t know the half of it. My first surprise came before I was even born.”
Hudson grimaced at the archaic practice of betrothing children. “Your father should at least have let you grow old enough to make the decision for yourself.”
“You don’t know much about the aristocracy if you think women are encouraged to make their own decisions,” she said wryly.
“I was just thinking how much better off I am than you are,” he agreed.
She looked surprised. “Better off? You? But I needn’t work!”
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with meaningful employment. And trust me, wages count as meaningful. Besides, I’d argue that you’ve been employed far longer than I have. Your elephant-sized pin money didn’t come for free, did it? That’s your blood money for your unwanted betrothal.”
She shook her head. “If you’re right, then I am not an idle young lady after all, but a servant vastly underpaid for my labor.”
“Is it untrue? No quantity of gold or elephants could compel me to wed against my will.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “Have I ever said my impending marriage was against my will?”
Hudson snorted. “When the betrothal predates your birth, it wasn’t your choice, by definition. Besides, can you look me in the eyes and honestly state that if you had your wish of marrying any person in the entire world, the man you’d choose would be Viscount Oldfield?”
She lifted her chin. “Against one’s will and not being first choice are two completely separate things, don’t you think? For example, I rise when Mary Frances shakes me awake, despite much preferring to burrow under the covers and continue sleeping.”
“Why does she wake you so early, then?”
“Because I ask her to. I want to rise early and I don’t want to do so, all at the same time. What a person wants is not always so linear.”
He had the feeling she was trying to distract him. “To be clear, are you saying you do wish to marry my employer?”
“I’m saying…” She trailed off and cast her gaze out the window for a long moment before collecting herself. “I’m saying, there’s more to it than what I might desire. You know as well as I do that this union will reunite two powerful families after generations of sparring. It is a good thing. And… it is my father’s dying wish.”
Yes. That last one, more than anything. Hudson suspected Lady Tabitha’s father could have asked his only child to turn herself into an elephant, and Lady Tabitha would have moved heaven and earth in hopes of finding a way to achieve the transformation.
She was a good daughter. A good person. She’d make the viscount a wonderful wife.
And she’d make herself miserable while she was at it.
Chapter 4
Two days later, Tabitha tried and failed to hide a snicker behind her ungloved hand.
“Are you laughing at me?” Mr. Frampton narrowed his eyes at her, then choked down the bite he was eating and chased it with a gulp of ale. “That was not the pie that won the competition, was it?”
She tried to blink at him innocently, but burst into laughter instead. “Last place, I’m afraid.”
“Good God.” He shoved his mostly untouched plate onto the closest passing tray. “Are you certain it was fit for human consumption?”
“I promise nothing.” She grinned at him. “Want to unburden your soul with any last-minute confessions?”
“I confess to being one greasy crumb away from throttling you,” he growled, and lifted two clawed hands as though to strangle her.
Tabitha danced out of reach, giggling. She could not recall the last time she’d had this much fun at a social event. Oh, she had friends, each of whom she only saw for a minute at a time here and there, between dances or at the dressmaker’s or while waiting for a musicale to begin. But the past two days with Mr. Frampton had far surpassed the amount of time she’d ever spent in the company of someone who was neither a family member, nor the paid servant of one.
Yes, yes, Mr. Frampton was her future husband’s man of business, and therefore still under someone’s employ… but rather than tag along at a respectful distance as Tabitha’s maid was wont to do, Mr. Frampton cleaved to her side with a wholly irreverent lack of proper distance, as though they were two friends enjoying the festival together.
Or as though they were… a suitor and the object of his affection.
