Page 67 of Courting the Country Miss

“He seems to hover around you, acting rather like a jealous lover.”

Uneasy, Leticia waved off his words and huffed a forced-sounding laugh. “No, he’s playing matchmaker. He has it in his head that I won’t be happy until I’m married.”

“You don’t agree?”

“Well, of course I’d like a husband and a home and a family, but I can be happy without those, too. Not everyone marries, you know.”

“True. I have an unwed sister and she’s happy enough, I suppose. She sometimes laments children she never had.”

“I’m planning to love all the children in our school.”

He turned to her in surprise. “You’ll be the teacher?”

“No, of course not, but I plan to be involved enough to become acquainted with them. Perhaps I’ll teach them to play the pianoforte.”

He nodded and fell silent for a moment. “So, you and Barrett don’t have any sort of relationship beyond friendship.”

“No, he’s like a brother to me.” Her cheeks heated again as she recalled his kiss and the strange rush that flooded her body and soul. “Besides, I could never love a libertine. I want a husband who will be faithful. Is that selfish?” She watched his reaction. Most gentlemen of the ton seemed to view it as acceptable to keep a mistress even after marriage.

Without removing his focus from her face, he shook his head. “Not at all.” He placed her hand against his, lining up their fingers as if measuring the difference. “Your hands are small.” He curled his fingers around hers.

She should not hope a fine man like him had plans for a future with a girl like her. Her words came out in a rush. “My lord. I’m an outspoken person and I’ve never been very good at holding my tongue. The truth is, I very much fear to continue spending time with you if there’s no future for us. I’m not asking for any promises, but if you would never consider marrying the daughter of a gentleman farmer from the country, I beseech you to stop calling on me.”

He said nothing.

She continued, “It’s not for my sake, alone, that I speak. If people see us together, they will draw conclusions and think you’ve raised my expectations. Then, if nothing comes of it, our reputations might be called into question, and that might also adversely affect my sister’s prospects.” Finally, she snuck a look up into his face.

He smiled, the kind of indulgent expression people often wear when they watch children at play. “My dear Miss Wentworth, if I were that shallow, I would never have called upon you in the first place. I spend time with you because I enjoy your company. I do not yet know if we have a future together, but I’m willing to explore that option. If our path lies down that road, marriage would be the ultimate destination.”

“Oh.” Chastened, she looked down at their hands. “I didn’t mean to besmirch your honor by implying your intensions were, well, dishonorable but our difference in rank—”

“I’m well aware of our differences, and while my family hopes I’ll make an advantageous match, I seek the kind of love my parents had. I’m willing to overlook an inferior status. Besides, your aunt’s status may be enough to please them.”

Overlook an inferior status ? He acknowledged her lower rank, yet accepted her, a country bumpkin with a paltry dowry, if he decided they would suit. Her cheeks burned at his reminder. At least he didn’t balk at her forwardness. And he did give her a candid answer.

“Forgive me for being so direct, my lord.”

“Not at all, Miss Wentworth. I find it refreshing. I find everything about you refreshing.” He smiled with unmistakable fondness.

Her embarrassment faded. They spent the rest of the afternoon laughing and sharing memories, hopes, dreams, and even a few fears. A new layer of intimacy opened between them. By the time he took her home, she had already mentally composed the letter she’d write to her mother about her diverting afternoon.

Inside the foyer of her aunt’s house, Lord Bradbury bowed. “A pleasure as always, Miss Wentworth.”

A footman hurried up to Leticia and held out a note. “Miss Wentworth, the messenger said it was urgent.”

She took the note. The seal bore the Averston family crest and she recognized Elizabeth’s graceful handwriting. Tristan! She glanced at Lord Bradbury, torn between wanting to read the message and not wishing to be rude.

Bradbury gestured to it and took a few steps back to allow her privacy. “Please.” He turned away and pretended to study the view out the window.

Her heart thumping, she broke the seal and read.

Leticia,

I need you most urgently. Tristan is feverish and delirious and calling for you. Please come post haste.

Yours,

Elizabeth