Louisa smiled impishly. “I have not developed a taste for any gentlemanonlyto spite you,” she corrected, and her mother’s lips thinned.
Over my dead body,” she said. “And believe me when I say I have no intention of dying just yet.”
Although Henry had known Louisa would be attending—Comerford had persuaded his father to invite the family—it transpired there was a difference between knowing and seeing her enter the room. It was as though her presence sucked the oxygen from the room.
Comerford moved his bishop. “Say the word and I’ll separate her from the pack.”
Henry shook his head. “Her mother doesn’t approve.”
“And? She’s truly lovely—a diamond in a room of quartz.”
“How poetic of you,” Henry said, taking a pawn with his rook.
“Poetic is hardly out of the ordinary for me.” Comerford raised his arms over his head and stretched languidly. “Besides, I was feeling dramatic.”
“Thatcertainly isn’t out of the ordinary.”
Comerford gave him a dry look and took his rook. “Let’s return to the subject of a certain young lady.”
“There’s no point.”
“A harmless flirtation never hurt anyone.”
If that was all it was, then perhaps he would be tempted to agree, but even now, Henry knew there was nothing ‘harmless’ about Louisa. She had infiltrated his thoughts and his peace of mind; she was a temptation he hardly knew how he was going to resist.
Two weeks in Bath of fighting his attraction to her, pretending in public he felt nothing when all he wanted was to see her laugh, had worn him down. The strength of his feelings had taken him utterly by surprise, but underneath this need to secure her happiness were other, entirely more sordid emotions.
It was a good thing she had abandoned her quest of convincing him to kiss her, or he would have inevitably given in.
The thought made his lips pinch.
“You’re looking disagreeable again,” Comerford commented.
“An association with her would be fruitless.” Henry moved his queen. “Check.”
Comerford moved a knight to protect his king. “How so?”
Henry scowled and moved his queen one square to the left. “Do you need a list of reasons? Her mother is eager for her tomarry anyone but me—I’m too young and too poor to offer her any meaningful prospect.”
“And the lady?” Comerford took Henry’s remaining bishop with his own. “What are her inclinations?”
“From what I can tell, she has no inclination to marry at all, or at least not soon.” Henry took Comerford’s bishop with a pawn. “And even if shehadsome inclination towards me, we would still face all the aforementioned issues.”
Comerford shrugged and placed his queen diagonally to Henry’s king. “Men have gone to war for less,” he said. “Checkmate.”
Across the room, Louisa tipped her head back and laughed throatily. Unable to help himself, Henry glanced at her and for a heated moment, their eyes met. Seeing her surrounded by young gentlemen was like swallowing a shard of glass and feeling it lodge in his navel.
He had known, of course, that she was a flirt and popular with other gentlemen, but as he had so recently discovered, there was a difference between knowing and seeing.
If her goal was to be kissed before she found her husband, this would be the perfect place to do it, and no doubt she knew that.
He knocked over his king. “Well played,” he said shortly. “I surrender.”
“Yes,” Comerford said, raising his brows as he glanced at Louisa. “So I can see.”
Henry ignored him as he strode from the room.
He made his way to the gallery, not entirely sure where he was going until he arrived in the long room framed by paintings and polished suits of armour. Comerford had invited him to Worthington several times since they had begun Cambridge together, but he had spent very little time in this room. If he wanted exercise, he did not content himself with pacingalong these uneven floorboards. There was an entire estate that stretched out in all directions around them.
