Page 25 of Courting the Country Miss

“What are your thoughts of Leticia Wentworth?”

Kensington blinked, clearly taken aback. “Er, she’s…a fine woman. A proper lady. Witty.”

“Anything else?”

His forehead creased in mild confusion. “Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

Tristan shrugged. “No, not specifically.” He switched tactics. “A group of us are going to Vauxhall Gardens Wednesday next. Care to come along?”

One of Kensington’s black brows rose. “Is Miss Wentworth in the party?”

Tristan kept his voice causal. “I’d planned to invite her—we are friends, after all.”

Kensington narrowed his eyes. “Did Richard put you up to this? Or his wife?”

Tristan raised a brow. “Put me up to what?”

“Trying to match me with Miss Wentworth.”

“Er, no.” Tristan resisted the urge to tug at his collar. “They haven’t mentioned her and you in the same sentence. I thought a visit to Vauxhall Gardens would be a diverting evening—providing the weather holds—and wanted you to be comfortable with the others in our group. Miss Wynn mentioned she’d never seen them, which gave me the idea.”

Kensington folded his arms and stared Tristan in the eye. “I’m not in the marriage mart.”

“No, no, of course not. What man is?” Tristan laughed uneasily. He should have known Kensington would see the transparency of his scheme.

A muscle in Kensington’s jaw twitched. “I have no plans to…marry.”

Questions crowded into Tristan’s mind but he didn’t dare voice them and pry. Guilt stabbed him. He should have taken a more direct, honest approach with Kensington.

Conjuring a grin, Tristan held up his hands in surrender. “Not setting you for the parson’s noose, my good fellow. Merely a diverting evening.”

Kensington eyed him with a shrewd gaze. “I see.”

“Will you come?” Perspiration dampened his back. What if Kensington rejected Leticia? Or told her Tristan had prodded him to approach her? Surely he would not do something so ungallant. Moreover, Kensington had partnered with Leticia at Whist, which suggested interest on some level, his protestations notwithstanding. At the moment, the idea of attempting to match Leticia with Kensington suggested higher stakes than he would have supposed.

Kensington glanced away. “I fear I’m not much company at social gatherings.”

“You’re here,” Tristan pointed out.

“I couldn’t refuse.” He sent a sidelong glare at someone out of Tristan’s range of sight.

Tristan had no idea how a man of Kensington’s formidable presence could be coerced into anything, but kept his questions to himself. “Anyone in particular you’d like me to invite to join us at the Gardens?”

“No.”

Tristan laughed, more uneasy than before. “It’s nothing but an outing with friends—all respectable.”

“Not your usual circle of reprobates, then?”

Tristan winced. “They aren’t that bad.”

“Not bad if one seeks gambling, racing, too much to drink, and loose women. Oh, no, they’re perfect.”

He was starting to sound like Richard. Unfortunately, he was right. Tristan squared his shoulders. “Most of the chaps in the Four Horse Club are not rakes.”

“True. I admit, they’re a bit more my speed than your usual set of friends.”

“So, you like fast horses better than fast women?” Tristan said, trying to lighten the mood.