“Could it?” An incredulous laugh escaped Finn. “I don’t see how.”
“It’s the end of the season, and most of thetonhas already left London. Whatever scandal there is will die down quickly. Why, you could be betrothed to someone else before next season begins. Any young lady would be…” She faltered. “That is,mostyoung ladies would be overjoyed to become your marchioness.”
“Yes, they would. Very few young ladies would scorn that title. What makes you any different?” It was a fair question, since he’d chosen her thinking she was much like every other young lady on the marriage mart.
She let out a heavy sigh. “I told you, my lord. We don’t—”
“We don’t suit. Yes, I heard you, and yet I remain unsatisfied with your explanation. You did express some concern earlier at sending me away unsatisfied, did you not?”
Her eyebrows shot up at his insinuating tone, but she recovered quickly. “Well, as to that, I’d be delighted to pour you more tea.”
Tea? He was well beyond being satisfied by a cup of tea.
“Where is your grandmother, Miss Somerset?” He should be relieved the old lady wasn’t here to witness this humiliating conversation, but Lady Chase had remained in the drawing room every other time he’d called, glaring at him with her beady eyes as if she thought he’d debauch her granddaughter on the cursed settee if she left the room. “How odd she should be absent for this particular conversation.”
Her brows drew together into a frown. “She, ah…she and my sisters are visiting my eldest sister, Lady Carlisle, this afternoon.”
“It’s rather curious she should happen to be missing today, of all days. But never mind. Now, I’ll have your explanation about the jilting, if you please.”
“And if I don’t please?”
He gave her an indulgent smile. “Oh, then I’m afraid I’ll have to wait here until Lady Chase returns, and make my enquiries of her. Tell me, Miss Somerset, how do you suppose that conversation will go? Of course, Lady Chase must know you’re jilting me. You’d never do such a thing without her consent, I’m sure.”
Finn had spent more than his share of time with women of questionable character, but never in his life had he seen a lady who looked guiltier than Miss Somerset did when he mentioned her grandmother.
Lady Chase was a cantankerous old soul—excessively fond of her granddaughters, but a despot just the same, particularly when it came to their securing respectable matches. If the old lady knew her granddaughter intended to jilt the Marquess of Huntington, there was no way she’d have merrily gone off to Lady Carlisle’s and left Miss Somerset to settle the business alone. The house would be in a complete uproar.
He retrieved his teacup from the table and held it out to her. “Perhaps I will have more tea, after all, while I wait for your grandmother’s return.”
Miss Somerset snatched the teacup out of his hand and dropped it onto the tray. “No. The tea is cold.”
“My, such a quick temper, Miss Somerset. I don’t recall you ever falling into a temper before, but that angry flush is rather fetching.” His gaze lingered on her hot cheeks with more than his usual degree of appreciation. “I must say, outrage suits you. But back to the matter at hand. The jilting?”
“Oh, what does it matter? I’ve jilted you, and that’s an end to it. Truly, my lord, I fail to see why you’re still here at all.”
“I just told you why. Because I’m not satisfied, sweet.”
She choked back a gasp of surprise as the endearment fell between them like a heavy stone dropped into water. They both sat there silently as the arcs rippled in ever-widening circles around them.
Sweet?
Where had that come from? He’d never called her that before, and it was highly improper for him to do so now, especially in that low, husky tone, as if he were caught between anger and amusement.
Damn it, he wasn’t amused, not by any of this, and Miss Somerset wasn’t hissweet,or anything at all to him anymore, so there was no reason for him to be stumbling over himself like a besotted schoolboy. The sooner he had her answer, the sooner he could put an end to this torturous discussion.
“Come, Miss Somerset. I haven’t all day to devote to ladies who jilt me. Your explanation, please.”
She threw her hands up in the air, as if she’d lost all patience with him. “Very well, since you demand it. Yesterday, in Lady Fairchild’s garden, we walked together, and I…”
She hesitated, and her cheeks went red with embarrassment.
“Yes? Please do go on.”
“I tried to kiss you. I’ve never been confident in your affection for me, my lord, and I suppose I thought a kiss would reassure me. It hardly matters now, except, well, they don’t teach respectable young ladies how to kiss gentlemen in gardens, do they? I was clumsy enough about it, I daresay, but your reaction….”
She looked away from him, and Finn sucked in a breath at her voice, the slight tremor in it, and the proud lift of her chin, in spite of that tremor. “Miss Somerset—”
“It was a kiss, Lord Huntington. Such a simple thing. Innocent even, but you made me feel as if I’d done something terribly wrong. You acted as if it were unforgiveable in me to want it at all, and now you’ve cast aspersions on my reputation because I happened to meet Lord Wrexley in a garden.”
