“I do not see how allowing her to believe she has been successful in her quest will convince her neither of us wishes to marry,” Miss Prentice said with a skeptical lift of one dark brow.
Neither did Tobias, but he had never before had to resort to such subterfuge, a subterfuge that was not intended to fool his aunt.
“Perhaps if we did not resist her efforts as much as we have, she will give up the chase, relent and see reason.” Even to his ears, his words sounded puerile, but he had to offer something.
Miss Prentice paused, looked over her shoulder toward the parlor windows and walked on.
“I am still not certain how that might work, but I love my godmother, and I do not wish to cause her pain. I also believe, as you say, that she is a very determined woman, and I do not think she will give up this silly notion of hers. She knows that I do not wish to marry, and yet seems to conveniently forget. Perhaps your plan has some merit, for it would appear that the truth apparently does not.”
Miss Prentice looked up at him with a cross expression. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and before Tobias could ask if she was unwell, she opened her eyes and smiled brightly. Tucking her hand once again under his arm, she spoke sweetly.
“And how shall we go about convincing Aunt Mimi that she is getting her way?”
Tobias threw back his head and laughed—largely with amusement and partly with joy. He brought her hand to his lips before returning it to his arm.
“Well, I think this must be a good beginning, do you not?”
Chapter 4
Cora suppressed a gasp as Lord Momford uncharacteristically kissed her hand before covering it with his own. If that gesture was meant to convince Aunt Mimi that her matchmaking scheme had found success, it seemed an inopportune moment, as Aunt Mimi was in the parlor, not in the garden, and therefore not witness to his display.
Cora’s cheeks flamed.
“Lord Momford, I think your gesture might be a bit premature.” Cora cleared her throat and spoke in a stronger voice. “Aunt Mimi and my mother are not here in the garden, but in the parlor.”
“Yes, that is true,” he said with a charming deep-throated chuckle that warmed Cora’s heart. “However, I cannot delude myself into believing that they do not now both stand at the windows and watch us.”
Cora turned to look at the parlor window but swung her head back almost immediately.
“My word!” she exclaimed. “You are correct. They both stand in the window watching us.”
As Tobias laughed yet again, Cora tugged at his arm and pulled him deeper into the garden, turning down a path blocked from view by tall hedges.
“You are most percipient, Lord Momford. It is not in my mother’s nature to spy on me so, nor to take too keen of an interest in my activities—certainly not my walks in the garden.”
“Not percipience, Miss Prentice. It was truly simply a guess. Perhaps I might know our mutual aunt a bit better than you.”
Cora’s shawl slipped from her shoulders, and Tobias bent to retrieve it from the path. He settled it about her shoulders once more, his fingers lingering on her skin. Cora could not suppress the shiver that ran up her spine at his touch.
“Lord Momford,” she could not resist saying, “they cannot possibly see us from the house now.”
Lord Momford, his hands still caught in the delicate folks of her shawl, stared down into her face for a moment before giving himself a shake and pulling away. With bronzed cheeks, he locked his hands behind his back.
“No, of course not. Forgive me. I was lost in thought.”
“About what?” Cora asked, turning to resume their walk. Lord Momford did not offer her his arm again.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, his eyes downcast, seemingly intent on his footing.
“You said you were lost in thought. About what?”
“I cannot rightly recall, Miss Prentice,” he said without looking up. “It could have been nothing of consequence.”
“Is there something particularly intriguing about the path?” she asked, unclear why she badgered him so.
At that, Lord Momford did look up, his face molded into an impassive expression.
“Not at all,” he said. He held out his arm again in a perfunctory manner, and Cora had no choice but to take it. They walked on for some time, speaking of less intimate matters, such as favorite books read. While Cora felt more at ease with the banality of their discourse, she could not deny, even to herself, that she wished to see him smile or hear his chuckle, but Lord Momford did neither.
At length, they returned to the house and found their aunt and Cora’s mother placidly sitting on the sofa, drinking tea. Aunt Mimi looked up, saw their conjoined arms and smiled brightly, but she said nothing, merely rising to kiss Cora on the cheek and take her leave.
Cora and Lady Hayes saw Aunt Mimi and Lord Momford to the door. Aunt Mimi turned and spoke.
“Tobias, I think it would be lovely if you would take Cora for a ride in the carriage tomorrow morning. Perhaps a picnic would be in order. Would you like that, Cora?”
Lord Momford bowed at the waist.
“Certainly, Aunt Mimi. What a splendid idea,” he said, though he spoke in a monotone. He turned to Cora. “Would you care to accompany me on an outing tomorrow, Miss Prentice?”
Cora, in keeping with their plan, nodded and curtsied.
“Yes, thank you. That does sound lovely.” She vowed to bring a book to read during the picnic, as she could think of no other topic of conversation upon which she and Lord Momford could engage that they had not already discussed in the garden. In hindsight, her life did seem a bit dreary.
A footman shut the door behind her aunt and Lord Momford, and her mother raised an eyebrow.
“That was prettily done, Cora,” she said, albeit in a skeptical voice. “I do not think you have ever accepted a ride in the countryside, have you, my dear?”
“No, Mama, although I have not been often asked. I fear I am not one for keeping secrets, and lest you think I have formed an instantaneous affection for Lord Momford, I would share something with you in confidence. The truth is, Lord Momford and I have agreed to behave as if we were growing fond of one another in order to foil Aunt Mimi’s matchmaking efforts.”
Her mother drew in a deep breath and then sighed.
“She loves you, Cora.”
Cora, who felt deep shame upon hearing her own words, bowed her head and nodded.
“Yes, I know she does, and she only wants what she thinks is best for me. Perhaps it is uncharitable of me to say, but the idea was Lord Momford’s, and although I originally resisted the plan, I ultimately agreed to it.”
“And so while your godmother and I happily watched the two of you arm in arm in the garden, you were in truth plotting how best to throw Aunt Mimi off the scent?” Her mother’s smile grew wide.
“Yes,” Cora replied, still shamefaced. “I have told her that I do not wish to marry, as has Lord Momford, but she will persist. I do not like to cuckold her thus.”
“No, of course you do not. However, she is quite adamant that you two would suit. I am inclined to agree with her, for if you two can hatch such a plan in only a few moments, then you must be of like minds. However, as I have said, I have no intention of forcing you into marriage. You must do as you think best.”
She bent to kiss Cora on the cheek before turning away to find her husband in his study.
Cora retreated to the library, there to while away the rest of the day lost in a novel infinitely more interesting than that which she had selected the previous evening. Her parents went out to a card party that evening, but Cora declined to attend, as was her habit, and remained home ensconced in her bedroom, reading.
The following morning, Cora dressed with uncustomary care, donning a summery dress of pale-green sprig muslin and a matching silk bonnet. Book in hand, she descended the stairs to await the arrival of Lord Momford.
The butler announced him as soon she reached the foyer,
and she curtsied, her heart leaping about in her chest in the most uncomfortable manner.
Tall and indisputably handsome, Lord Momford removed his black top hat and bowed to her. His brown silk cutaway coat showed his trim figure to advantage. Pale-golden trousers matched his waistcoat, and the shine of his boots was not to be rivaled.
Cora could almost feel pity for all the young ladies who might wish to drape themselves upon Lord Momford’s arms. It would appear he would have none of them, content to live out his life as a bachelor, sitting in his library and reading books in a solitary existence.
“Good day, Miss Prentice. You look very well. Shall we?” He held out an arm, and she moved forward to take it, resolving as she did so to convince Lord Momford that he should indeed consider taking a wife at some point in the future. It would be a shame if such a handsome and generally pleasant young man were to shut himself away.
Cora did not forget that Lord Momford could be somewhat outspoken at times, as he himself had said, but the charm of his personality made up for those impetuous moments.
Though she could think of no suitable young women to whom she might introduce him, she thought her mother might suggest a few in the surrounding countryside. She determined that Amanda Ashford, the young blonde miss to whom he had been introduced at her mother’s fete, was not at all suitable for him.
Feeling not a little like Aunt Mimi, she gave Lord Momford a bright smile and climbed up into the carriage with a sense of purpose and even pleasure.
“You appear to be in fine spirits this morning, Miss Prentice,” Lord Momford said upon climbing into the carriage. He glanced at her quickly before taking the reins.
“I am, Lord Momford. Thank you. I slept well, and I think I might enjoy a ride in the countryside.”
“It is my pleasure to take you then,” he said, urging the horses forward. “Since this was Aunt Mimi’s idea, I thought you would be mightily displeased. I recall you said you would rather read books in the library or garden than drive about in carriages to visit acquaintances in the country or in London.”
Cora drew in a sharp breath. That had been almost her exact wording, though she had said “husband.”
“What a remarkable memory you have, Lord Momford.”
“One of my few saving graces, I fear,” he murmured with a chuckle.
“I did say exactly that, and as you can see, I have brought a book.” She held up her novel.
“Yes, I noticed,” he said. “Surely you do not intend to read while we are driving, do you? Would that not be difficult?”
Cora laughed, and wondered when she had last done so.
“No, certainly not. I think that would make me very ill.”
“Then when do you intend to read?”
Cora bit her lower lip.
“The truth is, Lord Momford, I worried that I might not be able to entertain you sufficiently, especially if we are to stop for a picnic, and I thought to bury my head in a novel to avoid such discomfiture. I suspected you might bring one of your books as well?”
Lord Momford’s lips twitched. “I did not.”
“Oh!” Cora said. “I...I see,” she said. “I assumed incorrectly.”
“Yes, perhaps you did,” he said enigmatically.
Chapter 5
Tobias turned his attention to the reins, ungraciously allowing Miss Prentice to contemplate the meaning of his words.
Though he too might have once considered bringing a book to a picnic, he had no intention of immersing himself in a tome in Miss Prentice’s presence. Not this day. Perhaps some day in the distant future, they might share time in the library, but not on this day.
He had awakened that morning eager for the day, eager to see Miss Prentice once again. Dressing with care, he had regarded himself in the mirror with a rueful smile. If only Aunt Mimi knew that she had succeeded, at least with him. He was in a fair way to becoming besotted with Miss Prentice, a notion he could never before have contemplated.
He felt exhilarated in her company. Seized by an unexpected force, he anticipated things such as he had never dreamed before—a home with a wife and a family of his own.
But Tobias did not fool himself. Although Miss Prentice had inadvertently engaged his affections, he suspected that she harbored no such romantic notions about him, and he knew he must tread lightly. His suggestion that they hoodwink Aunt Mimi had been nothing more than a ploy to spend more time in Miss Prentice’s company, a weak tactic, which she had found suspect but ultimately agreed to.
“It is a fine day, is it not?” Miss Prentice said quietly.
Tobias smiled. So, they were to exchange banal pleasantries, were they? He was content to do so.
“Yes, mighty fine,” he agreed. “Are you warm enough? You did not bring a shawl or a pelisse.”
He turned a quick eye on her to admire the lovely curve of her long neck as brown curls escaped her green bonnet.
“Yes, I am quite warm, thank you,” she said. She clutched her book in her hands as if she feared dropping it.
“Lord Momford?” she began in a quiet voice.
“Yes, Miss Prentice?”
“I had a revelation this morning,” she said.
Tobias’s heart thudded in his chest. Had she come to regard him favorably?
“Yes?”
“It was sudden and completely uncharacteristic for me.”
Tobias drew in a deep breath and held it.
“Yes?”
“I cannot believe that I am about to put myself forward in such a manner, but...” She paused.
Tobias wondered if he should speak first. It was not gentlemanly to allow a woman to declare herself. He opened his mouth but stopped short at her words.
“But I think you should truly consider marriage. It occurred to me that you might indeed not only make some young miss very happy, but that you too might benefit from the affections of a wife and a family.”
He accidentally jerked on the reins, and the horses slowed to a stop.
“Some young miss?” he repeated flatly. “You think I should consider marriage to some young miss?”
No longer attending to the horses, he turned fully toward her. Miss Prentice’s cheeks were quite rosy.
“Yes, I do!” she said in a defiant voice. “Do not forget that I said you could make some miss very happy.”
“And how might I do that, Miss Prentice? I hardly know any young misses, with the exception of yourself, and I sense that you did not mean I should marry you.”
“Me?” she squeaked with a hand to her throat. “Me? Oh, goodness no, not me! You know that I do not intend to marry. And if I did contemplate marriage, I would hardly address myself so boldly to my future groom!”
“So, you think that I should marry, but you need not.”
“Well, yes,” she said, dropping her eyes to contemplate her book.
“What if I were to say that I think you might make some young man very happy?” Tobias could not restrain himself.
“Lord Momford!” Miss Prentice said with a hand to her flaming cheeks. “What nonsense you speak! I should not make any young man happy. I do not have the ability to do so. Pray, let us drive on.”
Tobias took up the slack in the reins and urged the horses forward.
“I cannot imagine why you should say such a thing, Miss Prentice. I do believe you have the ability to make a man happy.”
“Please spare my blushes and let us speak of other matters, Lord Momford. I have spoken my piece and did so sincerely. I believe you only tease me.”
Tobias drove on, a dull ache in his chest.
“I would not behave so ungentlemanly as to tease you thus, Miss Prentice. My words were also sincere.”
“We are then in accord, sir. Aunt Mimi might be thwarted in her attempts to make a match from the pair of us, but she will be mightily pleased to know that we each agree the other is an ideal match for another.”
Tobias did not like that one little bit, and he said nothing further until they
arrived at a likely spot for a picnic—a stretch of meadow that descended to a lovely little lake flanked by shade trees. He brought the carriage to a stop and helped Miss Prentice down. She pulled her hand from his quickly, and he frowned, wishing now that he had indeed brought a book.
He retrieved the basket of food that Aunt Mimi’s cook had prepared and spread out a blanket under the largest tree. Miss Prentice settled herself in the shade, and he seated himself across from her.
They ate in silence, although Tobias could not call it companionable. Their earlier conversation seemed to have left its mark, rendering them both ill at ease. After some time, Tobias forced himself to speak.
“What novel is it that you brought with you today?” He turned to look at Miss Prentice.
She blushed. “It was just a silly roman à clef,” she said. “I left it in the carriage.”
“Perhaps you would consent to read a bit of it to me. I think I could enjoy a roman à clef.” He smiled. “I shall fetch it.”
He returned in moments and settled himself into a comfortable position on his elbows, stretching his legs out before him. Miss Prentice opened the book and gave him a hesitant look.
“Where shall I begin?”
“Wherever you would like,” he said.
Miss Prentice began to read. Her voice, clear and unexpectedly melodious, exerted a calming influence over him, and Tobias closed his eyes. So soothed was he by Miss Prentice’s reading that he lowered himself to his back and crossed his hands over his chest.
It seemed like only moments had passed when he felt a jab in his rib. He opened his eyes to see Miss Prentice standing above him, the toe of her shoe at his side.
He scrambled to his feet.
“Well, I am pleased to know that I can at least read you to sleep, Lord Momford,” she said. Her lips twitched, and he took heart in the notion that she was not entirely displeased with him.
“Miss Prentice!” he said in a voice made husky by sleep. “Forgive me! I cannot imagine what overcame me.”
“A sizeable meal, a warm summer day and a bedtime story, I would say.”
Sweet Summer Kisses Page 51
