Page 50 of Courting the Country Miss

Your humble servant,

Bradbury

“Oh, my,” Leticia breathed. Though Lord Bradbury had been generous to donate an exorbitant sum of money on her supper dance, he had done so out of kindness, not any personal gesture. Hadn’t he?

“Is it from Lord Bradbury?” Isabella leaned over her shoulder.

“It is.”

Isabella let out a squeal, then composed herself, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed her loss of comportment. “I knew it. You didn’t believe me, but I knew he liked you.”

“Oh, good heavens, Bella, it’s commonplace for a gentleman to send flowers to a lady with whom he danced.”

“These are roses.”

“It might be his signature. He might send roses to everyone.”

Isabella huffed. “Sometimes you are no fun at all.”

“It’s pointless to get one’s hopes up about a bouquet.” Leticia inhaled the fragrant scent.

“Are you afraid to get your hopes up?”

“He’s a kind gentleman, so yes I like him, but he’s also a viscount, so no, I’m not entertaining any naive dreams that he has intentions other than courtesy because we shared a dance and supper for a charity.”

“He singled you out at Vauxhall,” Isabella reminded her.

Leticia shrugged. “Tristan put him up to it. I need to change for dinner.” She turned away from her sister and climbed the curving staircase to her room.

Isabella followed. “What were the requirements on your list, the one you gave to Tristan when he made his wager with you?”

“I have no wish to discuss this.”

“If I recall correctly, you wanted a husband who would be faithful, kind, have integrity…oh, and something about wit and intelligence, as I recall.”

“Isabella…” Leticia warned. Clearly, relating to her sister the conversation she’d had with Tristan had been a lapse in judgment.

“Lord Bradbury is handsome, a viscount in possession of a great fortune, he seems kind, a witty conversationalist, doesn’t have a reputation for gambling, did not drink at either social event where I saw him, and, according to Aunt Alice, he is a man of integrity who has never had any public affairs, which means he’s either very discreet, or virtuous. Either way, he’s not a rake. If you don’t want him, you’re hopeless.”

Leticia stammered, unnerved by her sister’s onslaught. Finally, she managed, “No viscount of his means will consider wedding a country miss with a feeble dowry and a passable face.”

“Your face is beyond passable. As far as the rest—he will offer for you if he loves you.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

“He might if you give him a chance.” Isabella sighed. “If you don’t want him, can I have him?”

“If you love each other, bless you both.” Leticia turned away.

“What is this really about?”

At the doorway to her room, Leticia paused and leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m afraid to give him a chance.”

“Why?”

Leticia gathered her thoughts and gave voice to her fears. “What if I do fall in love with him, and then he marries another? I don’t think my heart would survive another blow of that nature.”

Isabella made a sound of distress. “Oh, Tish.” She wrapped her arms around Leticia and hugged her close. Leticia leaned against her sister, letting her love and warmth surround and comfort her.