He gritted his teeth, and she assumed he was fuming.
As her finger was already on the door handle, Glynnis pushed her way outside. A long expanse of grass met her gaze until it was stopped by another large building across the lawn, a building with whimsical minarets and a massive dome. The prince’s famed stables! She strode onto the path winding around the property, although there were people standing around lanterns and under tents.
“What about you? Don’t you have a lady-friend here who needs your attention?” she asked over her shoulder, knowing Hargrove was still close. “Don’t say you have no intention of maintaining your raffish reputation in Brighton. You’ll break all the single ladies’ hearts. And some of the married ones, too, I’ll warrant.”
Glynnis hoped he took it as a challenge and would go off to do something befitting a rum buck. She’d seen him dancing with a woman who, by her dress and manner, was a courtesan. It had given her a small pang of jealousy, knowing Hargrove was free to engage in the mysterious two-backed beast with the harlot, while she had to bait a man and then await her wedding night.
Into the silence, Glynnis turned to observe him. Hargrove cocked his head, gave a single sniff, and then sighed.
“Perhaps I am sticking a little too closely. Nothing can happen here in the garden in sight of the Pavilion’s many windows, not with so many others around. But what will you do if I walk away, for I do see a lady of my acquaintance with whom I would like to share a word? Will you simply stand by yourself like a stick in the mud?”
“I shall take a short stroll, and if it makes you feel better, I will even speak with some of the otherfemaleguests. All right?”
He hesitated, but only a moment. “Very well. I will see you anon.” Bowing slightly, he wandered away toward two fair-haired women. Glynnis wrinkled her nose. Maybe he preferred blondes and that had set him against her in London. If she’d been so fair as those girls, maybe he would have allowed himself to be trapped.
No matter. There were plenty of noblemen who liked a chestnut-haired lady. Hesitating, wondering if she should walk right up to a group that had more men than women, suddenly, another solitary individual exited the Pavilion and came sauntering toward her.
To her good fortune, he was vaguely handsome, taller than she was, and not more than a decade older. Thus, as soon as he crossed the paving stones and onto the grass, which was currently yellowing due to the daily hot sun, she was upon him.
“Good evening, my lord, can it beyou?”
He bowed graciously while wearing a bewattled expression.
“I am not sure who you think I am, dear lady, but to my dismay, I do not believe we are acquainted.”
“Goodness! Please excuse my forwardness. I thought you were someone else. I don’t know anyone here, and thus must admit to pouncing too quickly upon what I thought was a familiar face.”
Then she offered him her saddest pout.
“Never mind,” he said. “Why don’t we introduce ourselves? Somewhat irregular, wot-wot, but we can always say someone put us up to it.”
Perfect, Glynnis thought. He didn’t mind a little dissembling.
“That sounds like a grand idea. I am Miss Talbot. My father is the viscount, Lord Dynevor of Llandeilo, Wales.” She always tossed that in as soon as politely possible, since being a viscount’s daughter was something, as long as word of her penniless state wasn’t widely known.
“I am enchanted to meet you, Miss Talbot. I am Lord Cumberry. My family home is in Kent.”
She wracked her brain, but didn’t recall the name. Without asking, she had no way of knowing his rank. But his cravat was whiter than new snow, his boots were perfectly polished, and his dark jacket and indigo waistcoat had not a thread out of place. He must, therefore, have a valet, and they were expensive to keep.
So far, so good.
“Have you only just arrived in Brighton?” she asked him.
“Indeed, I have. I’ve taken a house on the Steyne. I like to be in the thick of things.”
Or maybe he couldn’t afford the first-quality homes on the seafront. But noticeably, he didn’t say “we.” She could only ascertain he had no wife.
“And you?” he returned, seemingly interested.
“I, too, have recently arrived. I’ve taken lodgings on the Marine Parade.” Or at least, a room in a hotel, but he needn’t know that. Not yet.
He nodded. “The sea air and all that, wot-wot.”
“I’m sure the air is as fresh and cleansing on the Steyne as where I reside,” she consoled him.
“Indeed. Shall we take a turn around the prince’s fine yard?”
He offered his arm, and she placed her hand upon it before they started to walk. Occasionally her shoulder brushed against his arm. She had a feeling he was game.
