by Ella Quinn
“Very well.” Her aunt’s tone was a bit impatient. “He is tall, blond, and handsome. He appears, from his conversation, to be intelligent and well read. He comes from a good family. He will be a marquis someday, and he wishes to be wed.” Aunt Bristow arched a brow. “Tell me. What is it about him that you do not like?”
Her aunt was right. Something about Lord Harrington had struck Elizabeth as . . . off. She pushed his physical looks aside and focused on what was bothering her. Lord knows it wasn’t his appearance. It was not his demeanor as such. It was . . . was he really interested in her? “He wants this position so badly that I believe he will marry any suitable lady just to have it.” She scrunched up her face. “Do you know what I mean?” Her aunt stared at her, clearly not understanding. She’d have to find a different way to put it. “It strikes me that in a way he is like a fortune hunter. He does not care who he weds, so long as he can have what he wants. In the case of a fortune hunter it is the money. In Lord Harrington’s case, it is the position with Sir Charles.” She rubbed the space between her eyes, trying to ease the tension she felt. “I do not wish to be the means to an end.”
Aunt rang the bell on the table next to her. “You do not think he cares if his affections are engaged.”
A footman appeared carrying two glasses and a decanter of claret. After setting it down, he returned to the house.
“I am not even sure if he cares about compatibility.” Aunt handed Elizabeth a goblet of wine. “If he told Gavin he was looking for a wife, he certainly seems to have got over Lady Charlotte rather quickly.” Elizabeth should have noticed that earlier, but she had been too excited Lord Harrington was joining them for tea. “He did not appear to be interested in anything about me other than my wish to travel overseas.”
“We shall take it one step at a time then,” her aunt said after a few moments. “I know you are interested in him, but marrying the wrong man is worse than not marrying at all. Not that many would agree with me.”
Especially her father. “I suppose that is the only course I can take.”
Who would have thought that a gentleman who was so easily pleased could be such a problem?
If they never discussed anything personal, how would she discern if Harrington could come to love her? Or if she could love him for that matter?
He was so focused on his goals, Elizabeth could not be certain he even presented his true self. Except that she was positive he wanted that position and needed a wife to go with it.
* * *
Geoff’s phaeton was waiting when he reached the pavement. He turned to Turley and offered his hand. “Thank you for inviting me to tea. I greatly enjoyed speaking with Miss Turley.”
Gavin grasped Geoff’s hand, shaking it. “I’m glad you came. You seemed to have a great deal in common.”
“Yes. We do.” He’d thought so as well. At least he now knew she would enjoy living and traveling overseas. Unlike Lady Charlotte, who was appalled at the idea of being so far away from her family. He had been surprised at how lovely Miss Turley was. Her gown was the same sky blue as her eyes. When she talked of traveling, they sparkled like the sun on the sea. And even though her gown was modestly cut, the swells of her breasts beckoned him to explore. This evening he would further his conversation and knowledge of Miss Turley. “I shall see you at the ball.”
“Until then.” Her brother stepped back as Geoff climbed into his carriage.
Once his groom had scrambled onto the back, he started his horses and headed for his rooms. How had he missed how vivacious Miss Turley was when he’d met her previously? Then again, he could not recall what they had discussed the only time they had danced together. Merely that she made easy conversation.
Naturally, he would give due consideration to Lady Mary, Lady Jane, and Lady Emily, as his mother had suggested, but the thought that in Miss Turley he had found the right woman to fill the position as his wife persisted.
She was conversant in politics, both domestic and foreign. She wished to travel. She knew how to draw a person in to conversation and put them at their ease. Geoff felt a little guilty that he had acted so awkwardly with her, but he had to know what her abilities were. Still, she had passed his little test, and she need never discover what he had done. He must remember to ask if she spoke French and Italian. German would be helpful as well. Although French was essential, he supposed he could hire a tutor for the other two languages if necessary.
He did not particularly care how musical she was. As a married woman, she would not be called upon to play or sing. Still, he could not imagine she had not been trained in music and art. His mother had filled many hours playing both for her own pleasure and her family’s. Now that he thought about it, he would like a wife who was musical.
Mentally, he reviewed the list he and his father had discussed, trying to remember if there were any other important requirements his wife must have and decided he had recalled each of them.
All in all it had been a very productive afternoon. As soon as he was sure Miss Turley was the lady for him, he would ask her father for an interview.
The streets were busy with fashionable carriages and other more plebian vehicles. But not so crowded that he had to focus his whole mind on his horses, and he found his thoughts straying to Miss Turley’s more obvious physical attractions. Her nose was straight but not sharp. Her lips were well shaped and seemed to naturally tilt up at the corners. How would they taste? Would she respond eagerly to his kisses? And her hair. Her curls seemed to have a life of their own. All during tea he had wanted to wrap one of her curls around his fingers and discover if they were as silky as they looked.
Geoff might not look for love in a marriage, but he would like to have passion. That would require obtaining a wife who enjoyed conjugal relations. Strange that he hadn’t considered that aspect until spending time with Miss Turley today. Although he’d thought Lady Charlotte would be perfect for the position as his spouse, kissing her had never occupied his mind like kissing Miss Turley was doing. And not only kissing her mouth, but the swell of her breasts as well as other parts of her nicely rounded body. His staff stiffened as he tried to imagine what she would look like naked.
“My lord, you passed your building.”
His groom’s voice made Geoff look around. He was at the end of the street. How the devil had that happened? He felt like the variest coxcomb letting a lady take up so much of his mind. “I’ll get down here.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
“Bring the town coach around at nine-thirty this evening. I’ll be attending the Holland ball.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Geoff climbed down from his phaeton and began strolling back to his rooms. He’d have to make a decision as to which lady he’d focus on soon. Perhaps as early as this evening after he spoke with the other three ladies.
He entered his rooms and glanced at the clock. It was not quite five. He should have asked Miss Turley if she would like to go driving during the fashionable hour. He would have enjoyed spending more time speaking with her. Geoff began to hope one of the other three ladies was not a more appropriate choice of wife.
A letter was on a silver salver in the middle of the entry table. He took it to his desk and popped off the seal, shook it open, and read. Tom Cotton, a friend from his home neighborhood and who had joined the army, was in Town for a few days and asked if he was available for dinner that evening. He dashed off his acceptance. It would be good to meet up with Cotton again.
A little more than two hours later Geoff entered Boodle’s and found his friend drinking a glass of wine. “Well met.”
“Harrington.” Cotton clasped Geoff’s hand and slapped his back. “It’s good to see old friends. How have you been doing?”
“Well. I hope to take a position with Sir Charles in Brussels.” Geoff sat in one of the leather chairs next to his friend. A servant brought him a glass of wine.
“I’ll wager you won’t be there long. As soon as Wellington wins
this war, you’ll be on your way to Paris. The government will want Louis back on the throne as soon as they can get him there.”
“I can’t fault that thinking. There’s no point in allowing time for someone else to create mischief.” He took a swallow of wine. “How have you been doing?”
Cotton grinned. “Just made major. I doubt if it would have happened if it hadn’t been for Napoleon escaping. I shall most likely see you in Brussels.”
It would be good having friends already present. Geoff wondered how many of his old school chums were going to fight. He’d known several younger sons who had joined the army. How should I contact you?”
“I’ll be with the Second Regiment of the Life Guards under Fitzgerald. If you go to wherever the army’s headquarters is set up, it won’t be too hard to find me.”
He pulled out a pocketbook and made note of his friend’s unit. “I should be there by the middle of June if not sooner.”
“Well”—Cotton smiled—“I hear there is no end of entertainment in Brussels. If you’re lucky, you’ll get there before all the parties end.”
Geoff hoped he did as well. Whomever he married would enjoy a bit of frivolity. “Have you heard anything of what Napoleon is doing?”
“Raising an army, one supposes. I know more about our troops. Although, I imagine you’ve already heard about the petty conflicts that are going on. One of the German generals is upset over not getting the command he wanted and asked to resign from his position. The King of the Netherlands is constantly complaining about one thing or the other.”
Geoff took another sip of wine. “My father’s complaining that The Peace Party is causing problems in parliament, accusing Wellington of being a murderer. His brother wrote to m’father about it requesting his help, which, of course, he’ll get. Even if Father has to come to Town. Which he doesn’t like above a half.”
“I don’t envy the duke having to deal with all the fighting among the foreign commanders.” Cotton set his wineglass down. “Let’s eat. I have a hankering for a rare beefsteak.”
Rising, Geoff said, “That sounds good.”
As they strolled into the dining room, he wondered what would happen this evening at the ball. Would he be able to choose the lady he would wed from his mother’s list? He sent a prayer to the deity it was so. The more he heard about Brussels, the more he wanted to be off.
Chapter Five
Several hours later, Geoff escorted his grandmother and Cousin Apollonia into Lady Holland’s overfilled ballroom. What a crush. “I do not know how we will move in here, nevertheless dance.”
“Never fear.” Grandmamma patted his hand. “Sufficient room is always made for dancing. Remember that many of the guests will simply move into position and others will clear the way.”
“Have you seen any sign that Lady Mary, Lady Jane, or Lady Emily are present?”
“I have not seen Lady Jane or her mother in some time, however, her father is to your right against the wall at the far end,” Cousin Apollonia informed him. “I do not see either Lady Mary, or Lady Emily, but Miss Turley is behind us.”
He turned suddenly and saw her party being greeted. “Do you have eyes in the back of your head?”
“Indeed I do.” Cousin Apollonia smiled smugly. “I am astonished you have not noticed them before. Shall we linger for her party?”
“If Grandmamma doesn’t mind.” He glanced down at her.
“Not at all.” His grandmother looked at him, a curious expression on her face. “I am looking forward to speaking with her aunt.”
More likely, she wished to study Miss Turley. Geoff was not at all sure how he felt about that. His grandmother was a formidable old lady, and he didn’t want her scaring Miss Turley off.
A few moments later, Turley hailed Geoff. “Harrington, well met.”
“Good evening, Turley.” Geoff turned and inclined his head to the man. “Miss Turley”—she offered her hand, and he bowed over it—“how fortunate that we arrived at the same time.”
She was even more beautiful than she had been this afternoon. Her flaxen hair was a riot of curls. A Prussian blue ribbon studded with pearls peeped out from between them. Once again, he wished he could touch one. Pull it down just a little to see if it would pop back up. If they were betrothed, he could take such a liberty. “It really is a squeeze.”
Just then, Lord Fitchley approached Miss Turley. “Miss Turley, my dance, I believe.”
“It is, my lord.” And just like that she went off with the other man.
Geoff didn’t know what he’d expected, but it was not that. He had wished to talk with her.
“My sister is much admired,” Mr. Turley mused. “If you wish to stand up with her at the next ball, you had better request a set this evening.”
It probably behooved Geoff to be much more attentive to Miss Turley than he’d been to Lady Charlotte. He did not have time to waste.
He followed Cousin Apollonia and Grandmamma through the crowd to the back of the ballroom where Lady Mary’s father, the Duke of Groton, stood. She was off to his side, her head together with another lady’s, and didn’t seem to notice Geoff’s approach.
“Harrington.” The duke, a friend of his father’s, inclined his head. “Congratulations on your position with Sir Charles. I wish you well.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Geoff glanced at Lady Mary. “I came to ask your daughter to dance.”
“Allow me to introduce you. Mary.” She hurried to her father. “May I make you known to Lord Harrington? Markham’s heir, you know.”
Lady Mary turned her cold, pale blue eyes on him, and Geoff repressed a shiver. “How do you do, my lord?”
He bowed, and when she did not even offer her hand, he tried to think of a way to remove himself as quickly as possible. Yet, her father was there and he must still ask her to stand up with him. “I am well, thank you.” For some reason, he felt an urgent desire to run a finger between his collar and his neck. “I would like to ask you to stand up with me.”
Lady Mary’s chilly blue eyes rested on him for several moments as if she could not believe he’d had the temerity to request a set. “My card is full.”
“Perhaps at the next ball,” he said only to be polite.
One pale brow lifted. “Allow me to make clear to you, my lord, that I have no desire to live abroad.”
Geoff had never been spoken to so dismissively. On the other hand, he could cross her off his list. Not only was she not interested in the life he offered, she was not at all suitable for the position. “In that case, I shall bid you good evening.”
“Good evening, my lord, and good luck.”
Before he could respond, she turned and smiled at a gentleman approaching her, and her countenance no longer appeared as if she belonged encased in ice. So that was the way of it. He would simply have to concentrate on the other ladies.
Keeping to the sides of the ballroom, Geoff circled looking for Lady Emily. In fairness, he ought to give the girl another opportunity. Finally, he gave up and focused on locating Lady Holland. She would know if Lady Jane was present and be able to introduce him.
“Lord Harrington.” The very woman he was looking for came up beside him. “I require your assistance to dance with a young lady who has no partner.”
“I would be happy to stand up with her.” Her ladyship placed her hand on his arm. “By the by, I am seeking an introduction to Lady Jane Summers.”
“She is Lady Jane Garvey now,” her ladyship said archly. “They married a few weeks ago. I dare say you are not the only one unaware of it. The wedding took place quietly in the country. I was told only because I am a good friend of her mother’s.”
Perhaps that was the reason neither his mother nor his grandmother and cousin had been informed of the marriage. It seemed his list had narrowed down to two, Miss Elizabeth Turley and Lady Emily. “Can you tell me if Lady Emily Oakwood is present this evening?”
“Indeed she is.” Lady Holland glanced toward the fa
r end of the ballroom. “Her mother is not far from the orchestra balcony. The woman with the gold turban and white feathers.”
Geoff glanced in the direction she indicated. “I shall find Lady Emily after this set.”
“Thank you.” Lady Holland gave him a grateful smile.
She led him to a painfully shy young lady and he immediately set about trying to put her at ease. Yet, it was not until a quarter of the way through the country dance that the girl—she was clearly still too young to have had a Season—started enjoying herself. When he returned her to her mother, he was glad to see other young men gathering around to stand up with her.
After the set, he found Lady Emily and her mother. It took only a few moments of gushing conversation about balls and other entertainments before he was thankful her card was full.
Geoff would have liked to have had more choices, but at least he could now focus all of his attention on Miss Turley. This time he would not let the lady slip through his fingers.
There were still a few more sets until he could dance with her, and he allowed his hostess to pair him with young ladies needing partners until—finally—it was time for the supper dance.
It had dawned on him as he watched Miss Turley dance every set of the evening, he was damned lucky she’d not already been partnered for the supper dance. Her brother was correct. She was popular. It would serve Geoff well to follow the man’s advice and discover which entertainments she would attend and reserve sets before other gentlemen could be there before him.
“Miss Turley.” He bowed over her hand. “My dance, I believe.”
She smiled politely, but not with the warmth he had seen Lady Mary give the unknown gentleman, and he felt the lack of it. Could he make her smile at him that way? What would he have to do to achieve his goal? “It is, indeed, my lord.”
Geoff led her to the dance floor and they took their positions. When he placed his palm on her waist, he wanted to draw her closer to him. Then she placed her hand on his waist, and her light pressure warmed him through his clothing. His hand practically engulfed her much smaller one. He wished he could touch her hand bare skin to bare skin. “I have been looking forward to this dance all evening.”
