Page 38 of Courting the Country Miss

Leticia lowered her eyes and sank into a curtsy as she greeted the newcomer. “Delighted to meet you, Lord Bradbury.”

Lord Bradbury bowed. “Your servant, Miss Wentworth.”

She looked up at the rumble to his voice and exchanged a rather direct stare with him. His dark hair had the faintest touches of auburn, and his blue eyes gave the impression of wisdom and kindness.

Tristan cleared his throat. “And I believe you know Captain Kensington, my lord.”

Leticia caught herself staring. Her cheeks warmed and she glanced at Tristan. With his head cocked to one side and his eyes widened with curiosity, Tristan looked so impish and adorable that she wished they were children again so she could throw her arms around him. Tristan glanced meaningfully at Lord Bradbury, and her cheeks burned hotter still. No doubt Tristan wanted to crow over his victory at having introduced her to a man that piqued her interest.

Lord Bradbury inclined his head to greet Kensington. “Captain.”

Kensington nodded but his posture changed subtly, as if he were preparing to spring into action.

Bradbury’s gaze shifted back to Leticia with another piercing look, giving Leticia the distinct impression he viewed her as a beautiful lady rather than a dowdy country miss. Which was silly. She never claimed to be as elegant as this lord, and no one had ever called her beautiful.

“I understand this is your first visit to this auspicious garden?” Lord Bradbury said.

“Indeed it is,” she admitted. Further proof of her low gentry status.

“Then allow me to show you around.” He offered his arm. “If you don’t mind, Captain?”

Kensington held up a hand. “Not at all, my lord.”

With a backward glance at Tristan and Kensington, who both looked too thoughtful for her comfort, she took Lord Bradbury’s arm and allowed him to lead her. Another glance backward assured her that Isabella stood in the middle of the group, surrounded by three men vying for her favor. Leticia returned her attention to the gardens and to her companion.

A large marble statue of a man standing in a relaxed pose, wearing slippers and a banyon-like dressing gown greeted them. He looked neither a statesman nor a soldier and his state of dress mystified Leticia.

“That’s the great composer Handel,” Lord Bradbury explained.

“What an unusual way to sculpt a man—in such a state of undress.”

“Indeed.” His eyes crinkled in humor. “I understand that idea belongs to the man who commissioned it, Jonathan Tyers, a music lover and patron of the arts.”

They walked past lush flowerbeds and arbors. Street performers stood among the guests who roamed and danced, all mingling with the aristocracy, the gentry, and the working class. Leticia verbalized her delight as they strolled through the Grove surrounded by supper boxes. The orchestra building dominated the center of the Grove. Lord Bradbury led her to a pavilion where pastoral paintings hung.

I understand you and Mr. Barrett are old family friends,” Lord Bradbury said.

“Yes, we are.”

“Averston asked me to encourage his brother to run for Parliament but I must say, his reputation gives me pause.”

“Lord Averston’s?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Mr. Barrett’s.”

“Oh, yes, well, I’m sure he was deserving of that when he was younger, but he seems to have turned over a new leaf as of late.”

At least, she hoped he had. He did seem more clear-eyed and purposeful lately. If she had to exaggerate the truth to help him get elected, she would.

“So I’m told,” Bradbury said. “He seems to be genuinely interested in the working class, an admirable quality for a candidate for the House of Commons.”

“Yes, he is very compassionate toward the down-trodden. He’s helping Lady Averston and me with our school for the poor. I assume you’ve heard of it?”

“My help with her rather unconventional auction has been enlisted.” Amusement colored his voice. “I found it difficult to say no.”

They shared a smile, and Leticia breathed another sigh of relief that they’d gained the support of such a respected lord.

They strolled through lawns and charming groves intersected with winding paths. Around every turn, they encountered floral bowers arching over benches of wrought iron and some of stone. Trees and thatched pavilions canopied the area.