“That is kind of you.” Lettie hardly knew what to say.
“Is everything all right?” Dalia asked, studying her.
Lettie took a sip while she considered her answer. Though the idea of talking over the situation was tempting, she didn’t think either of her sisters would understand. This was a decision she needed to make by herself. For herself.
“Merely a bit of a headache. Nothing some tea and rest won’t cure.”
Dalia smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” Her sister sat on the edge of the bed.
“What is it?” Lettie could tell by the look on Dalia’s face that something was on her mind.
“Mr. Brover is attending the ball this evening. Which gown do you think I should wear?”
Lettie sighed. “Are you certain he captures your interest?”
“Why do you ask?”
“In all honesty I don’t think he’s good enough for you.” Lettie hoped that by stating it that way, her sister wouldn’t take offense but would consider her words.
Dalia opened her mouth as though to protest only to close it once more. Several seconds passed before at last she nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“Then it doesn’t matter what you wear.” Lettie held her breath, hoping her sister agreed. She hadn’t cared for Mr. Brover.
“On the contrary. His interest might spur the interest of others.” She glanced apologetically at Lettie. “That sounds mercenary of me, doesn’t it?”
Lettie understood her logic but even more she was relieved Dalia’s heart wasn’t at risk with Mr. Brover. “I believe Rose is wearing a pale blue gown this evening. What about the yellow one? That color is very becoming on you.”
“Do you think so?”
“If you have Cora braid your hair so it sits along the side of your neck, we could place those little yellow satin roses in the braid.”
“Oh, that’s an excellent idea.” Dalia rose. “Perhaps when you finish your tea, you might help me find those roses?”
“Certainly.” Lettie sighed, aware her rest was at end. While it was nice to be needed, she’d grown weary of the demands of her family. She could say no, but it seemed petty of her to refuse.
Perhaps she should accept Nathaniel’s business arrangement if only for the shock it would give her family.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Haggard, weary-eyed infants, who never could have been babies; little slips of things, whose heads are scarcely above the belt of the burly policeman lounging out his hours of duty on the bridge, but who have a brow on which, in lines indelible, are scored a dreary account of the world’s hard dealings with them.”
~ The Seven Curses of London
Nathaniel perused the crowded ballroom that evening, hoping Lettie was there, and hoping she’d decided to agree to his suggestion. Perhaps she needed more than a few hours to consider it. It was a big decision. But if she looked at it logically, surely she’d see an engagement was the best option.
Never mind the voice in his head that desperately wanted her to agree. The idea of saying goodbye to her was unappealing to say the least. He told himself it would be easier to do so now than after spending several more weeks in her company.
But that didn’t change his hope that she’d say yes.
He’d deal with saying goodbye when the time came. He wanted Lettie—needed her in more ways than he cared to admit.
The internal battle continued until he was scowling, no longer certain what he wanted.
“You’re going to frighten the other guests.”
Lettie’s voice at his side startled him. Normally he found her first. That showed him just how much this whole matter had unsettled him. Somehow, he needed to regain control. And as soon as he had her answer, he could.
He turned to face her, hoping her answer would be clear in her expression. But her eyes were guarded with worry lurking in their depths.
“Good evening,” she said.
“And to you.”
The small smile she gave him provided no clues. When had his wallflower become such an enigma?
“I’m certain this evening finds you well,” Tristan said as he joined them.
Nathaniel could’ve throttled his brother. Though he probably thought his presence would allay any gossip, it had the opposite effect. Nathaniel could already feel stares from half of the ballroom, which he would’ve preferred to avoid.
Lettie looked from Nathaniel to his brother and back again, that small smile still in place.
Nathaniel made the introductions as quickly as possible, hoping his brother would be satisfied and take his leave.
“It’s a delight to meet you, Miss Fairchild. I believe I’ve seen my brother at your side several times of late.”
“We have found that we share a common interest,” Lettie said as she glanced at Nathaniel before returning her attention to Tristan. “Do you share your brother’s hobbies as well?”
“Which ones would those be?” Tristan asked.
Nathaniel cleared his throat. He didn’t appreciate their conversation excluding him while he stood between them. “Nothing that would capture your attention,” he said to Tristan.
“Ah. You must be referring to that curses book.”
Letitia’s smile widened and a familiar light filled her eyes—the light he’d always considered his and his alone. The tightness in his chest was as unwelcome as Tristan’s presence.
“Are you familiar with the book?” Letitia asked.
“Indeed. Quite enlightening,” Tristan said. He offered her one of his rare, charming smiles.
Nathaniel braced himself, waiting for the expected results he’d seen in the past. His brother had charisma, and he so rarely used it that when he did, the affect was stunning. Their father had possessed the same ability. In their father’s case, it had hidden the beast within, deceiving those around him. Nathaniel hoped that wasn’t the case with Tristan.
With reluctance, he looked at Letitia, expecting to see a besotted glaze in her eyes.
To his surprise, her expression held the same skepticism she often had, as though completely unaffected by Tristan’s charm. “Which curse caught your interest the most?”
Nathaniel tried to hide his smile. She was testing his brother to see if he spoke the truth, ignoring the fact that he was an earl. For some reason, that lightened his heart.
Tristan’s brow rose, as though asking how dare she question him. But Letitia held her ground, her silence speaking volumes as she awaited his answer.
“I found the first one the most intriguing. And you?”
“Difficult to say,” she said. “All were equally concerning.”
Tristan nodded in agreement, making Nathaniel doubt he’d read any of the book.
“The farming was one of the worst though, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Indeed,” Tristan agreed. “To think the newspapers permits ads for people willing to farm out their children. That only worsens the problem.”
Letitia’s eyes widened in respect. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Nathaniel was impressed. Tristan had read the book—at least part of it. He shared a look with Letitia, seeing she’d come to the same realization. The idea of having someone who understood what he was thinking with only a look was a novelty. It only made him like her all the more.
Affection? Was that all this was? In truth, he feared his feelings for her had grown beyond that, but he wasn’t willing to label them.
Tristan glanced between them, as though sensing they were sharing a moment. That was far more than their father would’ve realized.
“Letitia’s sisters are in search of husbands. Perhaps you’d like to meet them?” Nathaniel asked, hoping the question would chase away his brother.
“Not this evening. Thank you.” He offered Letitia a smile. “It’s a pleasure to have made your acquaintance. I look forward to future conversations.”
“As do I.” Letitia gave him a curtsy.
Tristan glared at Natha
niel, making him smile.
“It was lovely to have met him at last.” Letitia watched the dancers swirling along the dance floor with a wistful expression.
“Would you care to dance?” he asked.
She smiled. “That’s not necessary.”
“I beg to differ.” He reached for her hand as the musicians began a waltz. A pang of guilt struck him as he realized he wasn’t above trying to convince her to agree to his proposal. But dancing with her when he had no intention of doing so with anyone else would cause more gossip.
As he looked into Letitia’s eyes, none of that mattered. He wanted to give her everything she longed for. Instead, he had to settle for giving her this dance, as awkward as it would be with him as her partner.
He held out his hand, hoping his leg would cooperate.
With a smile, she took his hand, and he tucked hers under his elbow. A feeling of completeness came over him, one he refused to question.
He kept to the edge of the dance floor as no matter how much he wished otherwise, his steps did not match the other dancers.
Letitia didn’t seem to mind in the least. She took his hand, placing her other one on his shoulder. Her small steps mirrored his, and they moved with perfect rhythm. Her obvious delight was his reward for the twinge in his thigh.
She tipped her head back slightly, her laugh one of pure joy as they moved.
As he watched, he knew without a doubt he’d give anything to hear that joy again. If only he was more than who he was. He reined back the longing that filled him. He was used to doing so. After all, he’d done it his entire life.
He set aside the question he’d wanted to ask and focused on the feel of her moving to the music. Even more delightful was the happiness on her face. He wanted these few minutes to last forever.
Then he wanted to kiss her senseless.
He shook his head slightly, annoyed the thought had crept into his mind. Kisses were not part of the agenda, regardless of whether she agreed to his proposal or not.
When the music ended, he continued to hold her a moment longer. Her smile lit his entire being, and he didn’t want the feeling to end. Her gaze met his and for now, they were in complete accordance.
But as the other dancers left the floor, Nathaniel realized they needed to as well. He escorted her toward an alcove, hoping they might have a moment to speak in private. Even if she hadn’t yet decided, he wanted to speak with her. The idea that this could be one of the last times he did so did not please him in the least.
“Have you thought further on my suggestion?” It was unfair of him to press her, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Yes.”
His heartbeat sped as he held his breath. Had she meant yes, she accepted, or merely yes, she’d thought on it?
“After careful consideration...”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Couldn’t breathe.
“I believe your suggestion is a practical one.”
Though he waited several moments, she said nothing more. Was an answer hidden in her words? If so, he couldn’t decipher it.
“And?” He knew he sounded far too eager. After all, it shouldn’t matter what she decided. But it did.
She blinked. “And yes.”
His knees went weak with relief, making him wish he had his cane. “Good.” He frowned, not quite certain what his response should be in this particular instance. While Letitia had said this was the first time she’d been proposed to, it was also the first one he’d offered. “Very well.” He tried to grasp a thought but his mind was blank. “We’ll need to act as though it’s a normal engagement.”
“Of course. I’ll do my best to pretend as though it’s quite exciting.” She glanced away as she spoke, as though her attention had already moved on to something else.
The oddest urge to take her into his arms and kiss her until her focus centered on nothing but him came over him. That would never do. He had to remember this was only temporary. While he’d gotten what he wanted, it didn’t feel like it. Something was amiss.
“Within a fortnight or so, you should be able to terminate it for whatever reason you’d prefer.”
“That sounds agreeable.” Yet she still didn’t look at him.
“I’ll move forward with the plan and call upon your father on the morrow.”
Her head turned sharply as her worried gaze sought his. “My father?”
“I must ask for your hand.”
“Surely I’m old enough to disregard that tradition.”
“Doing so will only cause people to wonder if we are truly engaged.”
Dismay fell over her features. “I suppose you’re right. But I dislike deceiving him.”
Nathaniel couldn’t help but notice she didn’t mention her mother. Or her sisters for that matter. He nodded. “I understand, but if we want to be convincing...”
“Yes, I know.” She sighed. “Very well. There isn’t any way to avoid it.”
He took her gloved hand, his gazed locked on her. With a slow, deliberate movement, he lifted it to his lips to kiss her arm just above where the glove ended. “Until the morrow.” He bowed his head and took his leave, wishing he knew where this had gone wrong.
~*~
The next morning, Mr. Fairchild stared at Nathaniel as though he’d lost his mind. “You’re asking for what?”
“For Letitia’s hand in marriage.”
The older man continued to look at him without saying a word, his expression one of puzzlement.
Nathaniel felt compelled to offer more of an explanation. “I’ve come to know her over the last few weeks and found we have much in common.” He gritted his teeth, disliking having to say more. “She is a wonderful lady, intelligent, attractive, and I care deeply for her.” He swallowed hard at the words, feeling an odd pressure in his chest.
Slowly, much like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, Mr. Fairchild’s lips turned into a grin. His eyes lit, reminding Nathaniel of the way Letitia’s often did. To his surprise, the older man chuckled. “I can’t believe it. My Lettie?”
Nathaniel was quite sure the question was rhetorical so he held his tongue.
Mr. Fairchild ran his finger back and forth over his upper lip as though still processing Nathaniel’s request.
“My dear, Lettie.” He shook his head, once again meeting Nathaniel’s gaze. “I’ve never understood why no one sees the same amazing young woman that I do. She is bright and beautiful. She cares deeply for others and is loyal to a fault.” His smile broadened again. “At last, someone understands who she really is. I confess that I am thrilled. Surprised, but thrilled all the same.”
Nathaniel held a few of those same thoughts and so felt a connection with the man. He didn’t understand why Letitia was still unmarried either. But he was grateful for it, and for this chance to know her.
As they worked out the details of the betrothal, guilt flooded Nathaniel. He wished he were the man Letitia truly deserved, one that would make her father proud. In truth, he was rather surprised her father was so enthusiastic about the suggested union, considering he was a second son. Yet Mr. Fairchild didn’t comment on that.
What Mr. Fairchild didn’t realize was how damaged Nathaniel was, inside and out. And Nathaniel didn’t think it was possible to put the pieces together and make him whole.
~*~
Lettie was a bundle of nerves. She hardly knew what to do with herself. For a brief moment the previous evening, she thought she’d had the upper hand, acting as though the betrothal was of little concern to her.
Then Nathaniel had stared into her eyes as though he could see through her meager defense and had asked her to dance. Darn him. He already knew how to melt her resistance. When he’d made that ridiculous gesture of kissing her arm before he’d left, her heart had squeezed in her chest, just as it did each time she relived the moment.
It had been such a sweet, romantic gesture. Time and again she had to reminder herself it had only been a sham. A ploy. If only h
er family knew that. If only she could tell them.
Her mother had acted outraged at the gesture, though Lettie was fairly certain she hadn’t witnessed it for herself, which was probably the reason for her upset. Rose and Dalia had been all atwitter during the carriage ride home and so delighted for her.
When Lettie’s eyes had filled with tears, her sisters had been so understanding and helped her hide her upset from their mother. Of course her mother had given her another lecture on how she needed to take more care with her behavior as the duke had once again danced with Rose.
Luckily, they hadn’t asked why she was so emotional. She had no idea what she would’ve told them. Certainly not the truth. That she longed for it to be real. That she feared she was losing her heart to the handsome captain.
Now she paced the length of her bedroom, wishing she would’ve thought to ask Nathaniel what time he might be calling on her father. Waiting was making her crazed.
What would her father say? And the rest of her family? She couldn’t imagine their shock. She held a hand to her jumping stomach. She hadn’t been able to eat breakfast that morning so great were her nerves.
Despite the fact that she’d been waiting for it, the knock on her door startled her. “Yes?” Perhaps it was only Holly come to see what she was doing.
Howard, the footman opened the door. “Your father wishes to see you, miss.”
“Thank you. I’ll be down directly.”
As soon as he closed the door, Lettie sank to her bed, trying to catch her breath. Why was she allowing herself to become so overwrought? This was a temporary business arrangement. Nothing more. While she was sorry to deceive her family, it wasn’t truly harming them in any way. Right?
She slowly rose. Her thoughts needed to stay on the girls. That was the end goal for this arrangement and it justified the means. Those reasons didn’t help to settle her nerves as she descended the stairs and entered her father’s library.
Loving the Hawke (The Seven Curses of London Book 1) Page 20
