This isn’t real.
It’s only pretend.
He didn’t want her any more than she wanted him. She couldn’t afford to lose sight of her goal. To do so would be disastrous, but for a teensy tiny fraction of a second, she would allow herself to be swept away on the feeling of being desired by the most refined man in the world.
Contorting his mouth around each perfectly enunciated word made Blayne’s jaw ache. It was exhausting, this business of pretending he was the same well-bred person his mother had raised him to be with the speech pattern drilled into him by Eton. He’d gotten so used to speaking without finesse, he struggled to get his well-polished phrases to slide off his tongue with ease.
And he missed his beard.
Frankly, he felt underdressed without it – naked, even. It was most peculiar.
But the glow of appreciation in Miss Russell’s eyes when he’d entered the parlor, and the absolute shock on her parents’ faces, was worth every effort. He held back a grin. If only they knew who he really was. Lord Elkins would probably march him straight outside and have him shot.
“A toast,” the viscount said once everyone had been seated and their glasses filled. “Mr. Cooper, we welcome you to England and hope your future happiness will be settled while you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Cooper said. He’d been placed next to Miss Russell with Blayne and Lady Elkins directly opposite. “Your hospitality is much appreciated.”
Lord Elkins inclined his head and drank, upon which everyone else followed suit. The first course was brought in – a pastry cup filled with tuna-fish mousse. A discussion about the sights and events London offered ensued with Lady Elkins insisting Mr. Cooper see Vauxhall Gardens while he appeared more inclined to visit Parliament.
“From what I gather, it’s different from our Senate and House of Representatives,” Mr. Cooper said, “and older too.”
“Indeed, we Brits do pride ourselves on our history,” Lord Elkins said. “As a member of the House of Lords, I would be delighted to give you a tour.”
“Thank you.” Mr. Cooper glanced at Blayne. “Perhaps you’d like to join us?”
It was hard not to like the man. Blayne held his gaze. He saw no hint of malice, jealousy, or haughty superiority in his eyes, but rather a sense of enthusiasm he seemed most eager to share. If it weren’t for Miss Russell’s aversion to the idea of marriage, Blayne reckoned he’d push her in Mr. Cooper’s direction himself. Rich, yet down to earth, the American was certainly a finer catch for her than that Carlisle fellow. In fact, Blayne rather liked him, which was quite surprising since he’d not have thought he’d like anyone Lord Elkins might recommend.
“I don’t believe Mr. Wright has a seat.” Lord Elkins’s snide remark was delivered on cue.
“Neither does Mr. Cooper,” Miss Russell said, “so I see no reason why that should prevent him from going with you. Provided he would like to do so, of course.”
Lord Elkins frowned while taking another bite of his food.
Blayne met Miss Russell’s gaze and offered her an appreciative smile. “Unfortunately, business must come first and since this is a busy time of year for me, I fear I must decline.”
“Perhaps I can see it one day?” Mr. Cooper asked.
“See what?” Lady Elkins inquired.
“Mr. Wright’s company,” Mr. Cooper clarified.
Blayne nearly forgot to breathe and although his attention was no longer on Miss Russell, he knew she was having a similar problem. He reached for his wine, took a sip, allowed a moment to pass…
“I will do my best to find a suitable day for it,” Blayne replied. To his relief, his voice flowed with the smoothness of a trained liar. God help him. This situation was getting completely out of hand. He fought the urge to glance at Miss Russell and tried to focus his mind on the money he earned by helping her out. Inspired, he turned to Lord Elkins. “You’re welcome too, my lord.”
Lord Elkins made a gruff non-committal sound and nodded. Plates were cleared and the main course arrived. It consisted of suckling pig with baby potatoes, steamed asparagus, and mushrooms in a creamy sauce. There was no need for Blayne to look at Miss Russell for him to feel her eyes upon him. He could sense her willing his gaze in her direction, no doubt with every intention of serving him a silent reprimand for not turning Mr. Cooper down flat.
In Blayne’s estimation, doing so would have been a mistake. If anything, it would only have piqued Lord Elkins’s suspicions. Grateful to Lady Elkins for bringing up a new exhibit at the British Museum, Blayne kept quiet and ate his food. He’d have to have another word with Guthrie so there would be a respectable business for him to show off in case things went completely sideways. Lord, he dreaded that conversation already.
“Miss Russell,” Mr. Cooper said when a lull arose in the conversation, “I wonder what your interests might be.”
“Oh, Charlotte loves to paint and embroider,” Lady Elkins said.
A snort escaped Blayne’s throat. He coughed to mask the insult. “Forgive me.”
“Commendable activities for a young lady,” Mr. Cooper said, “though I would like to hearherspeak of them.”
Blayne almost cheered and suggested a toast in Mr. Cooper’s honor.
