“Easily enough, with a hairpin,” she answered, wincing inwardly at the lie that came so quickly to her lips. “I apologize for my delay in returning to you.”
Lord Warwickshire nodded but said nothing more, returning her to their mother, who stood in conversation with another. Beatrice did not need nor want to say anything, standing beside her mother with her hands clasped in front of her and letting her thoughts linger on Lord Bradford. The way he had kissed her, the boldness of it, and the promise in his words had set her heart alight. Could it be that she might have found the gentleman she would one day call husband? It seemed like a preposterous, ridiculous dream, and yes, she had to admit there was a partof her that feared he had only said such a thing to steal a kiss, but what if he had been genuine in all that he had said? Could it be that she might find herself happy even before the London Season had begun?
I have never felt such wondrous sensations before.
Reaching up absently, Beatrice touched her lip with one finger, recalling just how Lord Bradford had kissed her so very gently and yet, with such passion. He had said that he had wanted to do so for some time and that, in itself, made her smile. To know that she had drawn a gentleman’s attention and that he now thought himself beginning to be in love with her was extraordinary indeed!
Now, she considered, all she had to do was wait for his return. Christmas was still some days away, and knowing that he was to reside with his aunt and uncle for the festivities, Beatrice hoped there would be no delay in his coming to speak with her again. Mayhap she would find her heart happy before the year was out! The hopeful smile on her face lingered as they returned home, her mind and her heart filled with none other than Lord Bradford.
1
“And so, I am in London.”
George looked out of the carriage window discontentedly, his mind filled with all manner of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He did not want to come to London, but his business took him here, demanding his time and attention. Besides which, as he had been reminded by various family members the last year, he had a duty to provide the heir – and this especially when he had no younger brother to take on the title, should he find himself in the grave. First, that stipulation had come from his late father and thereafter, from his aunts, uncles, and other particular relations who all appeared to want to remind him of his responsibilities, even when he knew them very well indeed.
Scowling at his morose thoughts, George rubbed one hand down his face and shook his head. This was not what he had wanted. This life he now lived, a life where he was forced to follow after the steps laid out for him by another instead of making his own choices.
If only I could go back…
“That is not a wise thought,” he said aloud to himself, trying hard not to allow his thoughts turn in a particular direction. “It has been nearly eighteen months now. She will be wed by now.” Sending those thoughts away, George continued to look out of the carriage window as it rolled along the London streets towards his townhouse. The drizzle from the heavy clouds and the dampness that threatened to make its way into his carriage matched his weighted spirits. He did not want to be here and certainly did not want to find a bride. And yet, here he was, all the same.
It had been a very long time since George had permitted himself to think about Miss Beatrice Williams. He had been a bold fool back when he had taken her into his arms, back when he had caught her up against him and whispered to her all that he felt. It had been foolishness, of course, for he ought never to have done such a thing and most certainly should never have told her of his affections, but something about that ball, abouther,had practically forced him to do so. Not that he regretted it, of course, for his heart had been quite truthful in all that he had felt, and thus, he felt no guilt for what he had said and done. It was the realization that, in stepping away as he had done, he had left himself open to a great deal of confusion and upset.
I have to hope that she will think me a rogue,he told himself, trying to pull his thoughts away from Miss Williams.A gentleman who wanted to steal a kiss from her and nothing more. A gentleman who did not tell the truth for fear that he would not be able to garner from the lady what he wanted.
It was no real comfort to him, however, but it was the only conclusion he could reach that brought him any sort of relief. George had not expected Miss Williams to be in his mind for so long and had never once expected that, near eighteen months later, he would still be thinking of her laughing green eyes and copper burnished hair… and yet there, she still lingered.
She will be wed,he told himself, firmly.And even if she is not, it is not as if I am able to do anything as regards my own heart.
His jaw jutted forward, his heart twisting. He was bound, he knew, bound to a situation where he had no choice but to do as was expected. After all, he was an honorable, respectable gentleman, and now, with the weight of his father’s title on his shoulders, George had no thought of shirking any responsibility… even if it was not what he wanted.
“My lord?”
It took George a moment to realize that not only had the carriage come to a stop, but the door was being held open for him by the footman. Turning his head around, he flushed with embarrassment and then climbed out quickly, wondering just how long it had been that his servants had been standing there. Given that the footman had been bold enough to speak to him directly, George suspected it had been more than a few minutes.
“Your rooms are prepared, my lord.” The butler bowed low, then lifted his head to look somewhere near George’s shoulder. “Should you like to rest or take some refreshment?”
“Some refreshment,” George said, having no desire to lie down in his bed in the middle of the afternoon. “In the study, if you please.”
The butler nodded quickly and then stepped away at once, leaving George to make his way to the study. This was and always had been his father’s townhouse, and it felt very strange indeed to be walking into the study as if it were his own. Pushing one hand through his hair, George let out a breath between his teeth as he stopped just inside the study door, memories assailing him.
His father had not been the gentlest of gentlemen, and many said there was not even a single ounce of kindness in the man – but George knew that to be quite untrue. The late Earl of Surreyhad been a man with very fixed ideas about what a gentleman ought to be and what duties and responsibilities were his own to take hold of, but he had not been short of kindness. The servants had been treated most favorably, his tenants had all spoken highly of him, and George himself had looked up to him with great admiration. To now be the one with the title, to be the one holding the same responsibilities as his father had done, left him with a weight upon his shoulders that he was still becoming used to, almost two years later.
This is my study now,he told himself, firmly.I must make it my own.
Stepping inside, George walked to the study desk and looked down at it, not quite ready to sit down in his father’s chair. Running his hand along it, he closed his eyes as a wave of emotion washed over him, threatening to overpower him if he did not take control of it.
With no other immediate family to speak of, George had to admit to a sense of ever-increasing loneliness. His mother had passed away many years ago when he had been at Eton and, with her, the chance of a spare for the title. Now, with his father also gone to the grave, George was left without a soul save for a few aunts and uncles, all of whom lived very far away and without any real interest in his present standing. No doubt they understood that it was somewhat trying for him, but none had offered to come alongside him or to even listen to his heart, should he want to share it.
“Which means no one knows about Miss Williams, save for myself,” he muttered, deeply upset with himself that his thoughts had returned to her so quickly. Trying to tell himself that it was a good thing that no one knew of his interest in the lady, he walked around the study desk and made to sit down, only for the door to open.
“I wascertainI saw your carriage arrive!” The round, jolly face of his dear friend, the Earl of Dorset, instantly lifted George’s spirits as he let out an exclamation of surprise. “I know, you will tell me that it is very rude indeed to simply call upon someone without warning, but I was also quite certain that you would not mind in the least!”
“Indeed, I do not!” George cried, coming around from his study desk to shake his friend’s hand. “Goodness, I am heartily glad to see you, for my thoughts were becoming quite morose.”
Lord Dorset chuckled ruefully. “I am glad that my presence has been able to cheer you a little.”
“Please.” George waved him to a seat. “I thought that I would be quite alone in London for the first few days at least!”
