by Ella Quinn
Chapter Nine
Geoff paced his small parlor. There must be a better, more secure way to gain Miss Turley as his wife.
He stopped. Even though his father would not arrange a match . . . that did not mean Miss Turley’s father could not arrange a match for her. That would make courting her unnecessary and the whole process much quicker.
He tried to remember what he knew of the viscount. Unfortunately, not much, except that rumor had it he wanted his daughter to wed and wed well. There was nothing unusual about that. What man did not wish for a good match for his children? Geoff didn’t even know if Lord Turley was in Town. He certainly had not been at tea that day or at any of the entertainments.
It appeared that her brother was more in evidence than her father. Did that mean he would have to apply to Gavin Turley? Then again, he had encouraged Geoff’s interest in Miss Turley. On the other hand, her brother was a good friend of Littleton’s and seemed to be promoting a match there as well. Perhaps Turley did not care who she married as long as she did. Even Geoff could not deny that Littleton was extremely eligible. Geoff just wished the man would be eligible with some other lady. Then again, perhaps Miss Turley favored him. He had noticed how her eyes sparkled when he had first discussed the overseas posting with her. Yet, lately, she had not seemed quite as interested.
He could not lose her.
The best way forward was to approach Lord Turley immediately, before she decided that she would rather remain in England. The problem was how the devil was he to find the man?
White’s or Boodle’s. His lordship was bound to frequent one or the other. Unless he was a Whig. Unthinkable. If Gavin Turley was a member of White’s, so must his father be.
Grabbing his hat and cane, Geoff left his rooms and headed for his club. Even if Lord Turley wasn’t there, Geoff could discover if he frequented White’s and, if so, how often. Or if he’d have to visit Boodle’s as well.
Several minutes later he ascended the steps to that most venerable of gentlemen’s clubs—according to his father—and said to the master, “Good evening, can you tell me if Lord Turley is here at present?”
The man bowed. “No, my lord. He usually comes in the morning for the news from the Continent.”
Geoff peered past the master, and not seeing anyone else he knew said, “Thank you. I’ll return tomorrow.”
On the way home, he revised his plans. He would send the flowers to Miss Turley—much less awkward than handing them to her personally—with some sort of extravagant message. An homage to her luminous skin or some such thing. Come to think of it, her skin was extremely fine. It reminded him of silk or a rose petal. Would it feel as soft? Once again, he found himself wanting to touch her. Knead her plump breasts, and take her nipples into his mouth. She always smelled of lavender and lemons. What would she taste like? With any luck, soon he’d discover for himself how soft she was.
He wanted to explore her mouth and make her writhe with desire for him alone. His cock hardened as he thought of plunging into her wet silk. He groaned. He had to stop thinking about her before lust for Miss Turley had him doing something stupid.
But her hair. Tonight the way her curls had been arranged, her tresses reminded him of pale gold glinting in moonlight. Her laugh had been light and airy.
Good Lord! He was becoming poetical. That would never do. The last time he’d attempted to write poetry, his sister had gone into whoops and asked if he was really planning to send it to a lady.
He would have to write a nice note to go with the flowers though. Geoff would have them delivered early. Then he’d go to White’s early in the morning and remain there until Lord Turley arrived. Once they’d spoken, and Geoff made his intentions clear, he and Miss Turley would become betrothed, and he’d have her in his bed. Once that happened, she would be his.
* * *
“Where is he?” Elizabeth had forced herself not to look for Lord Harrington when he was not by her side.
“Left in a huff,” Aunt Bristow said, her eyes sparkling wickedly. “Gavin, I was not at all happy with you when you didn’t return as quickly as I wanted you to, but I think you concocted exactly what was needed to bring Harrington up to scratch.”
“I wish I could take all the credit,” her brother said. “But it was Littleton here that first had the idea.”
The very handsome, but completely rakish Lord Littleton inclined his head.
Elizabeth still had trouble believing that his lordship had agreed to help her, and now to find out it was his idea . . . “How? I mean, what made you think of it? And why?”
He turned a pair of warm green eyes on her, and, once again, she knew why the gentleman was so dangerous. Gavin had warned her not to fall in love with his friend. Fortunately, her taste ran to blue eyes and blond hair.
One particular pair of blue eyes at that.
“My grandmother used to tell the story,” Lord Littleton began, “of how she and my grandfather married. Apparently, Littleton men are famous for attempting to avoid the parson’s trap. Yet it turned out that he liked her a great deal, but couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. One of her cousins visited with a friend and they hatched a plot to make my grandfather jealous, and it worked. Once Grandfather saw that another gentleman might be interested in my grandmother, he made it his objective to marry her.”
“How very devious.” No wonder her brother and his lordship were so certain this scheme would work. “Was he happy that he wed her?”
“He said he was the happiest man on earth.” Lord Littleton smiled at Elizabeth. “Turley said you like Harrington, and we all know he must marry.” Lord Littleton shrugged. “I thought I would do you a good turn.”
“I hope it works.” She pulled her bottom lip between her lips. “I hope it is me he likes and not just the position.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that.” Lord Littleton grinned. “From the look on Lord Harrington’s face, I predict it will not be long before he calls on your father.”
“He certainly looked as if he’d like to murder you,” Gavin said to Lord Littleton.
“As long as he doesn’t put thoughts to action,” his lordship responded drily. “Would you like to give Harrington more incentive by riding out with me tomorrow, Miss Turley?”
“Thank you, I would.” Elizabeth responded to his grin with one of her own. “Even if he begins to behave as he should, I do not wish to give in too easily.”
“Lord, no, my dear,” her aunt said. “There is nothing wrong with letting a man chase you.”
That was what her friends had said as well. She wished Charlotte, Louisa, and Dotty were here, but they were all getting ready for Charlotte’s wedding in the morning. When she was told, Elizabeth had been sworn to secrecy and had not even confided in her aunt.
Elizabeth prayed Lord Littleton was wrong about Lord Harrington approaching Father. He could and would give his permission far too soon. That could ruin everything. “Gavin, what if he does ask to see Papa right away?”
Her brother rubbed his jaw as he thought. “I’ll keep Father away from his usual haunts for a day or two. That should do it.”
“I hope you are right,” Elizabeth said, unconvinced. “I wish he would leave Town for a while. However, if Lord Harrington does come I will not be at home tomorrow morning. Aunt and I are attending the Worthington End of Season Breakfast.”
“Dear me,” Aunt said. “I’d almost forgotten about that. Harrington surely will not attend.”
“Trust me, my lady, when I say he will be in a bad way by the end of tomorrow,” Lord Littleton laughingly assured them. “I agree that keeping him away from your father is a good idea. I’ve always thought Harrington was a bit of a cold fish when it came to the ladies. Hooking him is what you want.”
Hooking him? If other gentlemen thought Lord Harrington was cold, did Elizabeth really want him?
* * *
Early the next morning, Elizabeth and her aunt were among the first guests to
arrive at Stanwood House in Berkeley Square.
Charlotte, standing next to Lord Kenilworth, was radiant, and his lordship appeared besotted. That was exactly the look Elizabeth wanted to see on Lord Harrington’s face when he gazed down at her. Hopefully, her brother’s scheme would work to bring him around.
“Congratulations.” She curtseyed to Lord and Lady Kenilworth. “I hope you will be extremely happy.”
Charlotte glanced at her new husband. “We already are. And you? How is it going?”
“Well, I think.” Under the guise of bussing Charlotte’s cheek, Elizabeth said, “I’ll tell you about it if you have time.”
“Find Dotty and Louisa, and we’ll meet at the table on the terrace,” Charlotte whispered.
The same place they had gathered at Dotty’s wedding breakfast. “In an hour?”
Charlotte nodded. “That should be sufficient time for me to finish here.”
“Hatching plots already, my love?” Lord Kenilworth murmured in what even Elizabeth thought was a sensuous tone.
“Only helping a friend.” Charlotte smiled.
An hour later, Charlotte, Louisa, Dotty, and Elizabeth were sitting at the round table on one corner of the terrace. A footman served champagne, small sandwiches, and ginger biscuits.
Once Elizabeth and the others toasted the bride, Charlotte asked, “How can we help you?”
“I’m not sure I require your help,” Elizabeth said. “I do want your opinion. You see, my brother’s friend, Lord Littleton—”
“Never tell me Littleton has taken an interest in you!” Louisa exclaimed.
“No, no.” Elizabeth couldn’t stop a giggle. “He has decided to help me with Lord Harrington.”
“This should be interesting.” Louisa took a sip of wine.
“It is rather. He is trying to make Harrington jealous.” Elizabeth looked at her friends. Louisa placed her fingers over her mouth as if to stifle a laugh, Charlotte tilted her head in a considering manner, and Dotty’s brows came together in a look of concern.
“Is it working?” they all said at one time.
“Well, he only started a few days ago, so it may be too early to tell. But I think it might be.” Elizabeth started to fidget with the fringe of her shawl, but took a drink of champagne instead. “At the ball last night, my aunt said that Harrington was extremely upset and glared at Lord Littleton and me when we were dancing.”
“That certainly sounds promising,” Charlotte commented. “I never had the impression he was jealous of Kenilworth. He only seemed inconvenienced that I preferred Kenilworth over him.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Matt said that he complained that he would have to find another lady to wed.”
That was what Elizabeth had thought. In spite of her resolve, she began twisting the fringe on her shawl. If she had another drink of wine, she would drain the glass. Glancing at her friends, she asked, “Do you think that means he cares about me?”
Charlotte, Dotty, and Louisa exchanged looks. Finally, Dotty said, “I am not sure. Are you certain you want Harrington? I mean, must you marry this Season?”
“I could wait, but I have been drawn to Lord Harrington.” She glanced at Charlotte. “I was very glad when you decided you didn’t want him. Other than his inability to discuss anything personal, I like him a great deal and think I could easily fall in love with him. Yet, I want him to fall in love with me as well.” It would break her heart if he didn’t love her in return.
“Of course you do.” Charlotte leaned over and hugged Elizabeth. “I think it is a good plan. Still, if this does not make him see that he wants you, then you must give him up.”
“I agree,” Louisa said.
“I do as well,” Dotty added.
Elizabeth took a large breath and blew it out. Giving him up was the last thing she wanted to do. Still, they were right. Even if he offered her the life she wanted, without love it would be worthless. Not marrying him was the only course she could take. “Thank you.”
Just over an hour later, she arrived home to find a bouquet of the most beautiful pale pink Thigh of Nymph roses she had ever seen. “These are lovely.”
Broadwell handed her a card. “They are for you, miss.”
For a moment she wondered if they were from Lord Littleton, but the familiar strong, slashing handwriting told her they were from Lord Harrington. Perhaps this would give her some indication if the scheme was working.
My dear Miss Turley,
These roses reminded me of you. Please accept them as token of my admiration for you.
If you have the second set and the supper dance left on your card for Lady Somerville’s ball this evening, it would be my honor to claim them.
Are you free to drive out with me at five o’clock this afternoon? If you are already engaged, I would like to ask you to accompany me tomorrow at the same time.
Yr. devoted servant,
Harrington
“Oh, my.” He was definitely not giving up on her. She handed the card to her aunt. “What do you think of that?”
Aunt Bristow quickly read the note. “Very nice. Now if Gavin can keep Harrington away from your father, we may bring this to a successful conclusion.”
Elizabeth turned to Broadwell. “Have you seen Mr. Turley this morning?”
“Yes, my lady. He is in the breakfast room.”
She and her aunt scurried down the corridor and came upon her brother as he was leaving the room. “Gavin, your plan is working, but someone must keep Lord Harrington away from Papa. Will you be able to do it?”
“I’ve done better than that.” Her brother gave them one of his insufferable smirks. “I convinced him he needed to visit Grandmamma. A letter arrived from her this morning complaining of something on the estate she was unable to resolve.”
What on earth could it be? Grandmamma had always been able to deal with any of the estate problems. Gavin had to have done something to cause their grandmother to write Father.
Elizabeth gave him a smile. “Well, I do not know how you brought it about, but thank you very much.” She almost hugged him, then remembered how he hated having his clothing mussed. “I did not expect you to go so far out of your way.”
“Listen, puss.” He chucked her under her chin like he had when she was a child. “It was no trouble at all for me, and it will save our scheme. Father had heard Harrington was looking for him, and I can tell you you are correct. He would have spoilt the whole thing. He had every intention of giving Harrington the go-ahead. With him gone, he’s given me the job of speaking with Harrington. Not only that, but he has given me the power of attorney to consult with our solicitor about your settlement agreement, if it comes to that.”
“Of all the sapskulls.” Aunt cast her eyes to the ceiling. “All I can say is well done, Gavin.”
“Well done indeed.” Elizabeth heaved a relieved breath. If Papa had given Harrington permission to wed her, which was exactly what everyone thought her father would have done, there would be no reason for him to court her properly, and for her to make sure he could love her.
“What have you got there?” Gavin asked.
She had almost forgotten about Harrington’s letter. And when had she begun to think of him in such a familiar manner? “A note from Lord Harrington. He sent it with the flowers. He has asked for two dances this evening, if I have them free, and would like to take me driving this afternoon.” She read over the missive again. “I have already promised Lord Littleton I would drive with him. I shall tell Harrington”—she had done it again—“that I have a prior engagement, but shall be happy to join him tomorrow.” Elizabeth considered denying him the second set, but decided not to. “I shall accept his request for two dances.”
“That will take the sting out of discovering you went driving with Littleton.” Her aunt nodded approvingly.
“I may go on the strut this afternoon.” Her brother grinned wickedly. “I’d like to see Harrington’s face when he finds you with Littleton.”
&nbs
p; “Do you truly think he will be in the Park?” Elizabeth asked. She did not know why Harrington would be.
“He’ll be there if only to see who you are with.” With that, her brother sauntered off.
Chapter Ten
Geoff ripped open the answer from Miss Turley and growled.
Damn it to hell. He’d wager Miss Turley was riding with Littleton this afternoon. Geoff couldn’t believe he’d let the man get the better of him. But what if it wasn’t Littleton? What if some other gentleman had seen her, and admired her beauty, and asked her to ride with him? There was only one way to find out.
Geoff considered taking his phaeton, but decided to ride his gelding instead. The phaeton would be more impressive, but it couldn’t maneuver the way a horse could. And he did not wish to draw attention to himself. All he wished to do was ascertain with whom Miss Turley was with.
If it was Littleton, Geoff was sure he could still win the lady’s hand. But if it was another man, he must know what he was up against.
He sent a message to the stables that at five to five his gray, Hercules, was to be brought around.
* * *
He was halfway around his second circuit when he saw them. Littleton and Miss Turley. Her head leaned toward his and she laughed. Even though they were at a distance from Geoff, he could hear her light laughter on the air. Laughter that he should be causing.
Cursing, he rode back to his rooms. She was dancing two sets with him this evening, and he’d make damn sure she would rather be with him than Littleton.
* * *
Once again, Geoff escorted his grandmother and cousin to the ball. As soon as they arrived, he found them a pair of seats and began searching for Miss Turley. Her aunt, he knew, always arrived at the beginning of a ball. By this point, they would be deep into the ballroom.
He moved along the edges of the room, thus avoiding ladies with daughters to marry off. Finally, he saw her standing with her aunt and brother. She was easily the most beautiful lady in the room. Tonight, she wore a white gown with silver netting that caught the candlelight and twinkled when she moved. Pearls hung from her shell-like ears. Around her graceful neck she wore a double strand of matching pearls.
