“Yes,that. What’s going on, Iris? Has something happened with Lord Huntington?”
“Or Lord Wrexley?” Lady Honora asked hopefully.
“I hope not,” Charlotte put in. “Poor Captain West is confused enough as it is. He can’t tell who’s courting whom, and it puts him in a temper.”
“Here are the gentlemen now.” Lady Annabel shot a warning look at the ladies just as Captain West entered the room, with the other gentlemen trailing after him. “You didn’t linger long over your port.”
“No.” Captain West took a seat at the card table next to his wife. “Lord Wrexley insisted we come at once. He was concerned about Miss Somerset.”
“And rightly so.” Lord Wrexley came toward her, his intention to sit with her unmistakable. “You still look flushed, Miss Somerset.”
Before he could take the seat next to her on the settee, Lady Annabel called out to him. “Miss Somerset was just telling us she feels very well. Come, Lord Wrexley. We need a fourth for cards. You won’t be so rude as to disappoint us, will you?”
“Of course not, my lady.” Lord Wrexley’s tone was polite, but he gave Iris one last lingering glance, his mouth turning down in a frown when Lord Huntington took the seat opposite her.
Lady Honora turned to Lord Huntington with a smile. “What time shall we ride tomorrow, my lord?”
Lord Huntington had been studying Iris’s flushed cheeks with a puzzled expression, but now he jerked his gaze to Lady Honora. “Whenever you like, my lady. Do you fancy a long ride? If so, we should leave early to avoid the heat of the day.”
So, Lord Huntington was taking Lady Honora riding tomorrow? Well, how lovely of him. But then he might do as he wished. It was nothing to Iris. Still, he’d been quite devoted to Lady Honora since they arrived at Hadley House. No doubt he’d given up on his mad plan to marryherand had chosen instead to initiate a courtship with Lady Honora before the season started, and she was surrounded by eager suitors.
Not that any other gentleman could compete with Lord Huntington.
Well, she wouldn’t pay him the least bit of attention. She certainly wouldn’t study the way his smooth, tight breeches hugged the long, lean line of his legs, or scrutinize the buttons of his falls, just peeking out from the bottom edge of his waistcoat.
A clever invention, falls. She’d never realized quite how clever until she reached page eight of her book, but just a quick twist of a button, and—
“I’m afraid you do look rather unwell, after all, Miss Somerset. The flush seems to be getting worse.” Lady Annabel raised her gaze from her cards, and nodded at Lord Huntington. “My lord, won’t you escort Miss Somerset upstairs? I don’t like her to go by herself, in case she swoons.”
Lord Wrexley leapt up from his chair. “I’d be happy to escort her—”
“No, no. We’re in the middle of a game.” Lady Annabel motioned for him to sit back down. “Lord Huntington isn’t occupied. He can take her.”
“Yes, of course.” Lord Huntington rose and bowed to Lady Honora. “I beg your pardon, my lady.”
“Do you fancy a game of chess, Lady Honora?” Lord Derrick gestured to the chess board on the other side of the room. “I warn you, though. I’m a hopeless strategist.”
Lady Honora looked surprised he’d asked, but pleased. “Why, I’d be delighted, my lord. Shall we see what happens when two hopeless strategists have a game?”
She crossed the room, and soon their heads were bent together over the chess board.
“Miss Somerset?” Lord Huntington was standing beside the settee, his arm held out to Iris. “May I take you up?”
She stood on unsteady legs. “Thank you.”
Touching Lord Huntington didn’t seem a wise thing to do at the moment—not when she was so preoccupied with his falls—but she didn’t have much choice, and it was only his arm, after all. Surely she could touch himtherewith no difficulty.
Her fingertips just grazed his coat, but the minute they did a bolt of heat raced over her skin, as if she’d shoved her arm into the fire.
Lord Huntington gave her a quizzical look, and drew her arm more firmly through his. “You’re shivering. I’m afraid you’re ill, Miss Somerset.”
“No, I’m quite all right.” But Iris could hear the note of uncertainty in her own voice, and she knew Lord Huntington heard it too by the way his arm stiffened under her fingers.
Neither of them said another word as he led her up the stairs, but when they reached the landing, she attempted to pull her arm free. “Thank you for your escort, my lord. I can make my way to my bedchamber on my own.”
He didn’t argue, but he didn’t let her go, either—not until they stood in front of her bedchamber door, and even then he lingered, staring down at her with an expression that made Iris’s heart thunder in her chest.
Why did one look from Lord Huntington make her pulse skip, and her breath come short? She didn’t even like him much, and she certainly didn’t trust him, so it wasn’t possible she could…wanthim, was it?
