“Make the best husbands,” Natalie finished for her. And then, to curtail the direction of Lady Eleanor’s conversation, she continued more seriously, “He is here to collect some belongings Stone has stored for him. From the look and size of the containers, I believe they are paintings or something—large crates and a few trunks.” Lowering her voice confidentially, she added, “Didn’t trust them with his father, from what I gather.”
Lady Eleanor’s face broke into a delighted smile. “Oh, I do hope he has preserved some of his mother’s paintings! Such a talented lady, she was.” She looked as though she wished to say more but took another sip of her coffee instead. Her hand shook ever so slightly.
“You knew his mother?”
Almost as though she were blinking away a tear or two, Aunt Eleanor looked out the window for a moment before answering. “Lady Cordelia was a dear friend of mine, that is, before her marriage.” Regaining her composure, she clucked her tongue in disapproval. “That husband of hers took her off to the country, and we never saw her again.” She reached for the nearby coffee pot and poured herself another half cup. “Her parents once held a private exhibition in their London home in lieu of a musicale. Most of the paintings were landscapes. I still remember one I wished I could have taken home with me, an oil painting with all the colors of autumn—not traditionally done. Such an untamed result.” She seemed lost in thought. “I do hope young Hawthorne has been able to save them. That would be a great treasure indeed.”
After hearing this, Natalie wished she’d not told her mother she would go into Bath for the day after all, for it would have been the perfect time for her to see if she could take a peek at what Lord Hawthorne had stored on the third floor. She ought to feel guilty for even thinking of invading his privacy, but curiosity often got the best of her.Oh, blast.
“Perhaps you could ask him,” she said to her aunt instead. Auntie could very well be a valuable source of information.
But her godmother was on to her. “Hmmm…you are as curious as I am.” She looked at Natalie suspiciously. “We shall both be forced to wait, however, as he is out with the other gentlemen.” She pushed back her chair and stood, looking around. “What happened to that footman? I suppose we’ve dallied too late to expect them to wait around for us late risers to finish up in here.” Heading for the door, she paused before turning back to Natalie one last time. “Do consider my suggestion, dear. I think Garrett Castleton would be the catch of the year.” Her eyes twinkled merrily. “Take the word of an old widowed lady who has seen both the best and the worst of them. I can spot a good man from a mile away.” She then laughed and exited the room, not waiting for a reply.
The ladies cuta considerable swath through Bath that afternoon. Although not the fashionable scene it had once been, the charming town offered plenty of shopping and walking and taking of tea for the countess’s guests to experience. Natalie enjoyed herself more than she’d imagined. She’d done no shopping since breaking her engagement, and that seemed ages ago! She happily seized the opportunity to make up for lost time and did her fair share to keep the Bath merchants flush.
In carriages loaded down with brightly colored packages, they returned to Raven’s Park just as the heat of the day burned hottest.
Carriage doors flew open, and liveried footman pulled down steps. Grooms handily unloaded packages, while ladies’ maids awaited their mistresses with lavender-scented baths to wash away the grime of the day. Ravensdale and his gentlemen had not yet returned.
The matronly guests took their time bathing, napping, and then dressing again. As the sun set, they at last gathered in the drawing room, still with no sign of the gentlemen. Upon consuming a second glass of wine, Lady Ravensdale suggested they abandon hope of the gentlemen returning in a timely fashion and take supper without them. Tea had been consumed hours ago, and it would be a shame if the efforts in the kitchen were to grow cold. There were a few token protests that the men might feel slighted, but Lady Ravensdale dismissed them. She knew her husband well, she explained to them. It might be well after dark before they returned.
With no assigned seating tonight, the women congregatedtoward the foot of the table where Lady Ravensdale presided. Being the youngest, Natalie found herself closer to the opposite end, flanked by an empty chair.
Naturally, before the footmen could serve the first course, the sounds of boots and masculine joviality echoed upstairs from the foyer. Barely one minute passed before the earl himself swaggered in and leaned down to whisper something into his wife’s ear. By the expression on her mother’s face, Natalie guessed he smelled of horses and spirits. The earl and his scotch, although not bosom buddies, were, at times, good friends.
The countess rolled her eyes and then spoke to the table in general. “The gentlemen, it seems, will be joining us after all.” Some cavalier and others quite sheepish, the fellows wandered in one by one. Apparently, the meal was to be further delayed.
In one moment Natalie anticipated seeing Lord Hawthorne, only to dread his company in the next. She’d never before acted so crudely with a gentleman! What would she say to him? Would he ignore her? She kept her eyes fixed upon her empty plate as various gentlemen found their seats near her father’s end of the long table.
Lord Hawthorne drifted into the dining room with the second wave of gentlemen. Taking the empty chair beside Natalie, he sat down and greeted those around her. As more and more of the gentlemen arrived, it could not help but be noticed that not one of them had declined to partake of the earl’s scotch. Voices were louder than usual and some slurred their words. Many of them forgot their manners, placing elbows upon the table and ignoring the carefully folded napkins completely.
Natalie sat still as a statue. Lord Hawthorne had chosen to sit besideher!
FEELING
Feeling particularly amenable, Garrett turned to lazily regard Natalie. She was a child in a woman’s body, a spoiled debutante. He ought to treat her as one.
Except that he wanted her. And if he were honest with himself, he’d wanted her since the moment he first laid eyes upon her in London nearly two years ago.
But who was Lady Natalie Spencer, really? The spoiled chit who’d spurned him in London, or was she this new minx? Flirtatious and innocent? Likely, she could not answer these questions herself. Her actions were brash and inappropriate for a young unmarried woman of theton. And yet, she did not seem to lack moral fortitude. She merely seemed to be too curious for her own good.
And, although scoffing at the concept earlier that day, Garrett was now unbelievably considering the unfathomable notion of marriage to her. Not only to satisfy his physical needs, but to satisfy her father, and also to help smooth the path of rebuilding the Hawthorne earldom. Was this all incredible luck on his part or a gilded trap? Good God, hemust befoxed!
“And how did you spend your day,my lady?” he asked, perhaps condescendingly. “I understand the ladies were to travel to Bath for the day. Did you purchase a new bonnet, or perhaps a bright new ribbon or two?”
“Both, to be certain,” she said, oh, so casually, glancing at him sideways. “You are recovered from your…ah…injury?” She appeared adorable and alluring this evening, shy, even, after last night’s debacle. A rosy pink blossomed on her cheeks as she seemed to struggle to meet his eyes. When she did so, she could only hold his gaze for a moment before once again finding her food fascinating.
Garrett winced at the remembered shock and pain of the night before. “We can thank the Almighty that such injuries pass quickly and leave no permanent damage.” Or he wouldn’t have spent the day riding about on a horse, that was for damn sure.
The afternoonhadbeen enjoyable and enlightening. Upon examining the efficiencies Ravensdale’s steward had incorporated into the irrigation systems, the earl proffered a large jug of fine scotch. Following a visit to the last tenant’s farm, the gentlemen’s pace slowed considerably. In fact, they stopped several times on their way to refill flasks from the jug the earl’s assistant transported on the back of his nag. By that time, the men were conversing on numerous topics such as horses, cards, gambling, agriculture, philosophy, or women. Garrett found his own thoughts constantly returning to an impetuous young lady. Dared he even consider her father’s suggestion? The more scotch he drank, the more confused he’d become.
When Lady Natalie had first appeared in society, Garrett had known her for a woman he could never pursue. She’d represented all he’d spurned for most of his adult life. And why would such a woman even consider him? The financial security he could provide came along with a tarnished title. Lady Natalie needed neither. And so, he’d contented himself withadmiring her from afar. And then she’d become engaged to the Duke of Cortland.
But now she was not.
In fact, it seemed she was no longer off limits at all.
Their brief encounters over the past two days had awakened something inside of him. She amused him and yet, somehow managed to affect him sexually. Would he ever want more from her? His immediate instinct to the threat of a leg-shackle had always been to flee. Being tied to one woman for life was, in a word, terrifying.
