Page 92 of Courting the Country Miss

“It doesn’t happen that way for everyone. Most people must be better acquainted.” Satisfied with the state of her hair, Leticia inspected her gown in the mirror.

Isabella shook her head and smoothed her gown. “I don’t understand you. He’s perfect.”

“He is pleasant,” Leticia admitted. “And polite.”

Isabella waved her hand. “Hardly words of adoration. Does his nearness make your heart go all aflutter? Does his smile make you weak in the knees?” She clasped her hands together dreamily.

“Well…I do like to spend time in his company.”

Isabella peered at her in disbelief. “What is wrong with you? He’s a lord with a long and respected lineage. He is handsome and witty and intelligent. He’s also kind. He treats you like a princess.”

Leticia chuckled. “You mean he wants to marry me off to someone I’ve never met to strengthen England’s alliance with Spain or Nigeria?”

Isabella let out a sound that might have been interpreted as a snort on anyone less lady-like. “You know what I mean.”

Leticia affected a mournful tone. “I always felt sorry for princesses getting sent away to some new land to marry a stranger—pawns in the games of power and politics.”

“Honestly!” Isabella turned away from the mirror.

Sobering, Leticia said, “Forgive me, Bella. I don’t know what to say. You are right; Lord Bradbury seems to be the perfect man. I should be in raptures at his attention.”

So why didn’t she love him? Why didn’t his presence set her heart aflutter the way it did in Tristan’s company? In fact, her heart did more than flutter; it often pounded harder the closer she came to him.

Surely, her reaction centered around that accidental kiss in his sickroom. Every nerve in her body had exploded. And during the balloon ride, he’d chased away her fears and turned the experience into a lovely memory that brought a smile each time she thought of the sight of London all laid out below them like a colored map. Perhaps her initial and unexpected fright had prompted such a strong response. She closed her eyes and shook her head at her own foolishness. Her reaction lay squarely on Tristan’s skill as a master seducer, nothing more.

Isabella turned a penetrating stare on Leticia. “Do your feelings for Tristan Barrett impair your feelings for Lord Bradbury?”

Leticia’s face heated and she laughed, making a point of looking down at her gown and smoothing it as if she found a multitude of wrinkles. “What a foolish notion! Tristan has always been rather like a brother to me.”

“He’s not your brother. He’s lauded as one of the most handsome bachelors in all of England, and pursued by women and ladies of all ages. He is interested in you beyond mere friendship.”

“Hardly. Besides, I would never consider a rake, and he knows it.”

“I hear rakes make the best husbands,” Isabella sang out.

“No. They don’t. They break their wives’ hearts and bring their family to social and financial ruin.” Leticia shut out images of Tristan’s smile and the earnest expression when he swore he’d changed.

Aunt Alice joined them, then. “Very sensible of you, Leticia. I would not encourage you toward a rake. However, I caution you to remember not to judge people too harshly; they seldom fit into neatly labeled boxes.”

Before Leticia could question her further, a group of chattering young ladies filed in, probably from boxes in the upper levels. Aunt Alice led the way to a circular alcove at the one end of the salon. Though small, the room’s domed ceiling and Corinthian columns gave it a spacious appearance.

Lord Bradbury stood talking with Richard and Elizabeth. As they reached the others, Bradbury smiled. She returned the expression, searching for any sign of excitement. Nothing. What was the matter with her? She should be quivering for Lord Bradbury.

Bradbury gestured to the refreshment table. “May I get you something? Wine? Champagne?”

“Those oranges are tempting,” Leticia said.

“Of course.” He excused himself.

Richard took Elizabeth’s hand. “And for you, darling?”

“Surprise me.”

They shared a look that seemed to contain a private joke before he joined Bradbury. Within moments, a crowd of young gentleman surrounded Isabella, peppering her with questions and showering her with compliments. Aunt Alice kept a sharp eye out on the bucks vying for Isabella’s attention.

Elizabeth drew Leticia aside. “I haven’t been to the school all week. How is Mrs. Harper?”

“She’s a fine teacher—doing wonderfully well with the children.”