Page 37 of Courting the Country Miss

When Mr. Finley finished discussing the mating rituals of the bird, Leticia nodded at him. “I had no idea there was so much to know about birds.” She focused her attention on Mr. Seton. “Are you a bird watcher, too, Mr. Seton?”

“Er, no.”

She addressed them both. “Lovely afternoon for a visit to the gardens, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is.” Mr. Finley continued searching the trees, no doubt hoping he’d find some new exciting specimen.

“Yes. Lovely.” Mr. Seton looked up at her with undisguised admiration in his eyes, then resumed his stare at the ground.

Leticia’s heart swelled in sympathy. Poor man. She couldn’t help but be flattered that he liked her but she felt no attraction for him in return. Still, she couldn’t leave him stranded. A tense silence fell on them.

She searched for a topic. “I understand you plan to run for the House of Commons, as your father did.”

“Yes.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but then returned to stare at the ground.

She hoped only ladies tied his tongue or he’d have difficulty getting elected to the House of Commons. Well, if Tristan could be kind to shy Miss Seton, she could do the same to the equally bashful Mr. Seton and the enthusiastic bird watcher, Mr. Finley.

Leticia took a step nearer Mr. Seton. “I’m sure you’ll be a fine elected official.”

He looked up again. “Do you think so?”

“Certainly. Your parents both seem well informed and I’m sure you have the good of the people in mind.”

“I do, I really do. I…” he stammered for a moment. “I admire your cause to help the orphans learn how to read. I want to help.”

“Do you? Oh, that would be lovely.” She smiled at him and he offered a smile in return.

“I…I can’t give as much as I’d like, but I’d be willing to make a pledge.

“Oh, Mr. Seton, you are as generous as you are kind. Here is the name of our solicitor who is handling the account for the school.” She pulled a card out of her reticule and handed it to him. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Wentworth.”

Tristan arrived last, no doubt to ensure no one had been left behind. He led the way to the garden’s main entrance. As he moved so confidently among the guests, Leticia couldn’t help but admire the calm, efficient way he managed everyone, seeing to their needs, making them feel heard. He would be a great leader, if he’d give himself a chance. If only he’d settle down and look for a kind, loyal lady who would love and cherish him as he deserved.

They proceeded forward, and Mr. Seton melted back into the group. Mr. Finley remained next to her, listing birds he’d seen at the gardens on previous trips. Leticia stifled a yawn. Apparently, Tristan equated respectable with boring. But then, men were often different with one another than they were with ladies so she ought not to blame Mr. Finley for his singular topic.

As Kensington walked by, he glanced her way. A touch of humor touched his mouth as if he suspected her disinterest with her walking partner’s topic of conversation. “I say, Finley, I overheard Miss Wynn say she’s a birdwatcher. Perhaps you ought to compare notes with her.”

“Is she, now?” Finley peered around. “I was not aware of that.”

“I think she’s partial to geese,” Kensington deadpanned.

As images of Miss Wynn’s incident with a flock of geese at the house party burst into her mind, Leticia tried to hold back a laugh but it ended up sounding like a cross between a cough and a snort.

Kensington’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Finley bade her a good day and went off in search of a fellow birdwatcher. Leticia suspected he would be disappointed.

Leticia gave in to her laughter. “I didn’t realize you had a wicked streak.”

His smile grew. “I prefer to think of it as a rescue, Miss Wentworth. I feared you’d die of boredom if I didn’t intervene.”

“It appears I owe you my life then.”

She admired the breadth of his shoulders, the sunlight shining on his dark hair. Captain Kensington was, without question, an attractive man.

They arrived at the gate of Vauxhall Gardens, paid admission, and moved inside. Leticia drank in the sight of the Grand Walk, a large, open pathway lined with trees and whimsical pavilions. Tristan and an unfamiliar gentleman approached. The newcomer held Leticia’s gaze. He stood a few inches taller than Tristan but less broad, possessing that enviable lean figure that the dandy set adored. His clothing oozed wealth and taste, almost too opulent for an afternoon outing, but fit the sinewy grace of his every movement.

Tristan led the gentleman to her. “May I present Lord Bradbury. My Lord, Miss Leticia Wentworth.”