Page 104 of Courting the Country Miss

As he led her to the dance floor for the next set, complimenting her on her gown, she glanced again at Tristan. He stood alone, staring out the French doors as if he were lost in thought, his expression pensive. The blonde widow stood nearer him, but he failed to even glance in her direction. What had him blue-deviled this evening? Did he regret the kiss? Did rakes ever regret kisses? She almost let out a sigh. She’d never imagined that act could be so singularly beautiful or devastating.

“Miss Wentworth, have you already promised the supper dance to someone?” Lord Bradbury asked.

“Er, no, not yet. But I’m not certain we ought to dance a second time in one evening.”

He cocked his head. “No? Why ever not? It isn’t as if I’ve asked you for a third. That would be scandalous.” His eyes twinkled.

Three other couples joined them to make up a square for the quadrille, so Leticia lowered her voice. “No, of course not, but…I don’t want people to draw conclusions. The opera a few nights ago, two dances tonight…it might imply a relationship we do not have.”

“Are you concerned people might view that as us showing a preference for one another?”

“Aren’t you?”

The quadrille started and she curtsied to him as he bowed to her.

“No. I want people to know.” He looked her in the eyes.

A bold declaration. Leticia flushed and looked down. She turned to take the hand of the gentleman next to her and circled. She and the other ladies changed partners, taking her away from Lord Bradbury.

If Lord Bradbury’s heart were truly involved, she needed to give serious thought to a future with him. As she circled, holding hands with the gentlemen on either side of her, she glanced up at Lord Bradbury across the circle from her. He stared at her rather too intensely.

He deserved a truthful response. A second dance would not qualify as a true declaration of her devotion to Lord Bradbury, but somehow, it felt too intimate, considering her tepid feelings toward the gentleman. Still, such a fine man would make an exceptional husband. Perhaps she should let her head, rather than her heart, rule her decisions. If she discouraged Lord Bradbury, she may not get any offer. Without the means of having another London Season, this may be her last chance for a home and family of her own. Going back to the country would leave her without prospects. She faced a life of being a burden to her parents and continuing to help various relations with their health needs or their children for the rest of her life.

Of course, she had the school. But loving and helping those children would not give her a home of her own, nor fill her home with children. Nor would it fill her heart with the love of a husband—but that sweet dream faded away.

She continued circling and twirling in the dance pattern as she made her way through successive partners until she came back around to Lord Bradbury. She admired his lean figure and his handsome face. More importantly, he was kind, attentive, and had a reputation for being every bit as upstanding as the Duke of Suttenberg, the paragon of gentlemanly behavior. Did Bradbury offer her the happy companionship of a good man, or a life of dissatisfaction?

His earlier question lingered in his eye as he took her hand and they circled. She would be happy with him, surely.

Making up her mind, she said, “If you aren’t reluctant, then neither am I.”

Still he waited as if he had not received the confirmation he sought.

“I would be honored to save you the supper dance, Lord Bradbury.”

He smiled, his eyes lighting up—not the blast of cheer that Tristan’s eyes did, but still a charming expression. The rest of the intricate dance passed in a blur, as did the following dance in the set. Leticia, breathless from the vigorous exercise, and her promise to Lord Bradbury, returned to her aunt who sat with the Countess of Tarrington.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” the countess said with a wave of her hand. “I’m tired, nothing more.” Lady Tarrington, though of an age similar to Leticia’s mother, bore the beauty of a much younger lady.

Aunt Alice turned to Leticia and gestured to her. “Lady Tarrington, may I introduce my niece, Leticia Wentworth?”

Leticia curtsied. “I believe we were introduced at the subscription ball, Aunt.”

“Ah yes, Miss Wentworth,” the elegant older woman said. “You drew a rather flattering sum for the privilege of a supper dance.”

“All in the name of charity,” Leticia said.

The countess looked her over. “My, you are lovely. I must introduce you to my son, Cole. A few months ago, he returned from the sea where he served as a lieutenant in His Majesty’s navy.”

Leticia smiled. “You must be very proud.”

“Of course, but I’m happier that he returned home. He was gravely wounded, but at least he’s back and well again.”

The distinguished older gentleman Leticia had spotted speaking with Tristan earlier appeared. He took the countess’s hand and kissed it, all the while his eyes fixed on her face.

Lady Tarrington smiled. “I’m quite well, never fear, my love.”

She introduced him as Lord Tarrington who greeted them all with a nod. He bowed, kissed his wife’s hand again, offered her an affectionate smile, and left.