“I’m not sure, as with the noise from outside the window it’s hard to say.”
Brittany’s laughter fizzled when Samuel dragged over the available seat to her right and sat down. He reached for the wrapped book, but she grabbed then package and held it against her chest.
“Excuse me, sir, but that is mine. I plan to study the tome. The book will then join the collection of others on the same topic which my relatives have been collecting for years. Now, please remove yourself from my presence and let us enjoy our tea,” Brittany demanded of him.
He pulled back his hand and placed it on the table, strumming his fingers, but he remained seated, which irritated her.
Seated so close together, she couldn’t deny her desire to evaluate him, and became slightly disturbed. He opened his great coat, she guessed to ease the confines of the material across his wide shoulders and back. Yes, last night she’d noticed his shoulders, and again when he refused to step aside at the emporium. She slipped her gaze over the breadth of his chest and how it tapered to a slim waist.
Frustrated at his refusal to depart, and her underlying emotions, Brittany took in a much needed breath. Her nose and senses where assailed by the fragrance of sandalwood soap mixed with the prominent scent of maleness. She hadn’t expected the sudden eruption of tingles to invade her body so strongly.
“Are you willing to relinquish the book to me or not?” he demanded.
“No, I’ll not let you have it. As I explained the book will join the others.”
From the wondering expression on his face she knew he still didn’t believe her.
“Then, I’ll have a word with the earl and he’ll hand the tome over to me,” he stated.
Brittany opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind when a footman entered the store, wearing the livery of Bemming, her father’s mark.
He bowed deeply. “M’ lady, the coach you requested, along with heated bricks for your feet, awaits.”
With a quick nod to the footman, she turned back to Samuel. “M’ lord, I would say it’s been a pleasure, but a lady never lies.” With a smile to Aggie, Brittany pushed back her chair with a loud screech across the floor then stood. She collected their pelisses and parcels then left him sitting at the table, mouth open wide for the second time in the hour.
Chapter Three
From the doorway of the store, Samuel watched as Brittany and her maid were handed into the coach. At this present time, the last thing he wanted would be to explain why he required this particular copy of the Lord Hersey book. He watched as she settled herself on the squab, then smugly lifted the wrapped book for him to see. Her smile made his heart skip a beat. He could feel a mixture of anger and desire build in him.
While partaking of his midmorning nourishment, Samuel pondered how he might review the book Brittany had in her possession. He had threatened to approach her father and ask the man to demand his daughter to hand it over, but he didn’t wish to go to such extremes. Yet, he needed some form of an excuse to search the book, without causing anyone to set the alarm or the hounds at his heels.
Then, he remembered what she’d said about her father having an extensive, if not the most, collection on Africa. He wondered if the earl might permit him to peruse the stacks on the excuse that he wished to plan an excursion there.
What Samuel couldn’t understand, why the man had thought he would get away with writing what he did? Didn’t Hersey suspect certain individuals would be coming after not only the book, but him, when they learned what he’d done?
He mentally cursed the man who’d sent him on this impossible mission.
Finished, he rose, slipped into his great coat and pocketed the notes he’d been studying. Tossing a few coins, more than required, on the table he exited the tea shop to see his town coach waiting for him, as expected.
As much as Samuel wished to speak with Bemming he knew first he needed to smooth things over with Brittany. To that end he directed the driver to return him to his townhouse. With Parliament in session for a few more weeks, he had to hurry in gaining her good graces before she, along with her parents, retired to their country estate until later in the New Year.
Storming into his townhouse, he was met by Stanley.
“Welcome back, m’ lord. Were you able to obtain the book?”
Samuel wanted to bite the man’s head off with a caustic retort but knew it wouldn’t do any good. Instead he just smiled and shook his head. As he shrugged out of his winter coat he contemplated his next move.
His option was defined by Stanley.
“M’ lord, several invitations to balls have arrived. I placed them on your desk.”
Yes, he thought, if he could track her down and repair the damage done last night and today then he might be permitted to see the book.
“I’ll be in my study looking them over. I also need a trusted footman to deliver a message for me. Have him report immediately,” Samuel directed to the man.
Samuel marched to his office, mentally composing the note in a plea for assistance from his friend, Lord Cole. If anyone knew where Brittany might be tonight it would be him or he’d be able to uncover the necessary information. Cole’s mother happened to be Brittany’s godmother.
Settled in the seat at the ancestral maple desk he withdrew a sheet of paper, selected a quill and composed the note.
Cole,
I need a favor and before you deny me, remember you still owe me for saving your life in Calais.
Things have changed for the worse and I need to slowly make amends with Lady Brittany Sexton. To that end I need to meet with her on, for lack of better words, neutral ground.
Can you find out which ball she’ll be attending not only tonight but for the rest of the week and let me know.
You may use the footman delivering this to carry your reply back.
Your friend,
Sam
No sooner had he sealed the letter than Stanley entered with a footman, attired in regular clothing.
“M’ lord, I thought this would be the best way to send the note to Lord Cole. The man has also been instructed to slip along through the mews.”
“Agreed. Now I know why I keep you around instead of pensioning you off to some distant estate,” Samuel teased before handing over the note.
With a nod of dismissal to the footman, Samuel turned his attention back to the butler.
“If things work the way I pray they will I’ll be going out this evening.”
“Very good, m’ lord. Might I suggest the forest green jacket with black trousers thus keeping with the season?” Stanley suggested.
“Yes. Now I need to get my work done. I’ll have luncheon here, whatever Cook planned, along with a glass of wine.”
****
Relaxed in her suite in front of the warm fire, Brittany pondered the worst that could happen today—her mother stopping by to inform her of the ball that she would be attending. The best scenario would be to stay in for the night, alone and with silence.
With a resigned moan, she curled her legs up under her to help keep her soft, thick slippered feet warm.
The squeak of the door sent a dull ache through Brittany’s head, disintegrating her thoughts.
“M’ lady, Cook sent me up to ask if you wish to have luncheon here.” Aggie asked.
“Yes, as I wish to start looking through Lord Hersey’s book. I just have to believe he will fill in the blanks that other explorers had left void. Then, I can begin composing the ultimate treatise on the continent and people will start taking my work and others of my ilk seriously,” Brittany declared.
“Meaning no disrespect, m’ lady, but don’t you fear Lord Samuel will try to prevent that from happening? He did seem determined to possess the book.”
Brittany glanced at the small flames lapping at the wood in the fireplace. She was all too aware that Aggie spoke the truth. Brittany had no idea how to protect her purchase. If she went to her father and informed him of everything what would he do
and say?
“I do worry about his next actions. I’m afraid he might approach father and request he intercede on Lord Samuel’s behalf. And knowing my father he’ll insist I give over the book, which brings up another interesting question,” she said.
“What might that be, if I may ask?” Aggie said in a confused tone.
“Why does Lord Samuel wish this particular copy? From what I heard today the printer will have others available,” Brittany said and started to reach for the book when the luncheon gong rang out. “Aggie, please scurry down and tell Cook I’ll eat with my parents.”
“Certainly, m’ lady,” she curtsied and slipped from the room which gave Brittany the chance to hide the book in a secret spot.
Minutes later, still wearing her warm slippers, Brittany swept into the small family dining room. “Mother, Father.”
“After you’re outing to Winterbottom’s Book Emporium this morning we were beginning to wonder if you’d be joining us. Did you find anything of interest?” her father, Eli, queried.
His question presented her with a quandary. Tell the truth about buying the Hersey book or only mention the romance and mystery novels she’d obtained?
“I was able to obtain a book which I’m sure you’ll appreciate. It seems Mr. Winterbottom was able to get the author copy of the book on Africa by Lord Hersey.”
“Wonderful. The treaty will be a marvelous addition to the library,” her father declared, much to her astonishment.
“Yes. Now our daughter will be able to complete her book,” Barbara said, adding much to Brittany’s confusion as she’d not suspected either knew of her impending endeavor.
On hearing what her mother had announced, Brittany dipped her head and focused on the trout she’d been served. Slicing a piece off the ribs she studied the morsel on her fork while trying to determine her best response. Much to her wonderment she didn’t need to say anything as her father voiced his agreement with her mother.
“And I look forward to reading the treaty. Brittany, if you have a need for any assistance in having your book printed I may be of service. I know of several shops who would love to take the project on,” her father declared.
“Now, don’t stress yourself during the afternoon. I’d like you to rest as we’re expected at the Florence ball this evening,” her mother stated.
“I shan’t, mother. All I wish is to look into the book then I promise I’ll rest. With your approval might I, considering the season, wear the deep red gown?”
“That will be perfect,” the countess uttered.
After finishing her meal Brittany adjourned to her suite where she anxiously took out her new purchase from its hidden spot.
Chapter Four
Dressed in her choice of gowns, with several sprigs of holly woven into her hair, Brittany waited beside her parents to be announced. Thankfully, this would be the only ball they were attending.
After making her bows to the host and hostess she glanced around to see if Sally might be in attendance. At least with her friend here the evening wouldn’t be horrible, or so she prayed. Spying her friend huddled on a straight backed chair in a small alcove, Brittany started for her.
Making her way down the side of the ballroom, she heard her name. She saw her godmother, Lady Wallace, Countess of Williamson, ensconced regally on a divan. Brittany smiled and waved. Even if society didn’t dictate it, she’d make her bows to the grand lady.
Brittany swept across the room, curtsied then gave Lady Wallace a kiss on the proffered cheek.
“M’ lady, I was so hoping you’d be here for I’ve wonderful news for you,” Brittany announced, taking a seat on the settee.
“My darling goddaughter, I suspected you’d be in attendance and also wished to speak with you on a matter of great import. Word came to my aged ears about a certain gentleman who recently made not only a nuisance of himself but has been quite rude to you.”
Brittany knew of whom Lady Wallace referred to. Lord Samuel Palmer. What made the man so infuriating was the simple fact they’d never been formally introduced. “I’m aware of whom you speak and wish to have nothing to do with him,” Brittany declared, making sure her words were firm but polite.
“As I thought. However, knowing you’re my goddaughter he has appealed upon me to intercede on his behalf. He wishes to apologize for his earlier behavior,” the countess explained.
“Yes, so he can take the book I purchased today? With it, and having father’s approval, I’ll finally be able to complete the treatise on Africa, which as you know has been my goal for years. If I’m not mistaken hundreds are being printed and will be available.”
“You are aware of my position on the subject. We should be able to study whatever we wish. Now to the point, he is desirous of a formal presentation to which I’ve agreed, under certain conditions,” Charlotte added.
“And what might they be?”
“He promises to explain the exact reasons for wishing to see your volume. I, like you, am not entirely convinced as he claims to be planning an expedition to Africa. Before you say anything, yes why this tome and not another. Once again, because he’s a man and thinks the ground he walks on is sacred,” the countess clarified.
Brittany thought over Lady Wallace’s words, knowing she could trust her. She wasn’t so sure of Lord Samuel and if he could be so easily believed.
“And it must be at my father’s townhouse, in the library. That way he can see how extensive the collection of books on Africa is,” Brittany declared.
“Correct. As that happens to be the other requirement.”
Brittany bestowed a warm smile on her godmother before saying, “Then, you may make the introduction.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” A deep familiar voice said from beside her.
She tilted her head up—way up—to see Lord Samuel. He stepped forward, stopping in front of her, wearing an annoying grin on his lips.
“Lady Brittany Sexton, may I present Samuel, Earl of Brockworth,” Charlotte announced, remaining seated.
Brittany didn’t stand but extended her right hand to him, making a point of keeping her lips pinched. She couldn’t be pleased that he’d maneuvered her godmother into this position.
He raised her gloved hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles, his breath seeping through the thin material. A tingle coursed up her arm and spread over her chest, not stopping until settling in the pit of her stomach. This confused her. She’d never experienced this before, not that she’d been offered a gentleman’s hand all that often in the past. Against better judgment, she lifted her eyes, meeting his gaze. A twinkle lit his and she suspected he must have had the same unique thrill. Somehow, that excited her more.
“Lady Brittany, it’s truly my pleasure to formally make your acquaintance,” he finally said.
“Thank you, m’ lord. I understand you’re a student of Central Africa.” Brittany struggled to get her words out through trembling lips. She held no fear for this man, except for the emotions he tweaked inside of her. The dampness between her thighs warned her that she must be careful when it came to Lord Samuel.
The orchestra started up a waltz. Not that she expected him to request to partner with her, but that would have been the proper thing to do under the special circumstances.
“M’ lady, have you been given the nod to partake in a waltz? If so, might I implore you to join me on the dance floor?”
Her heart beat faster.
“Yes, m’ lord. Although, I don’t understand why I received the approval since not many gentlemen would partner with me.”
“And why is that, m’ lady?”
“Many are afraid I will talk about subjects they might be interested in and but are not appropriate for ladies to discuss.”
“With your permission Lady Wallace, might I borrow your goddaughter? I promise to return her to your side at the conclusion of the dance,” Samuel inquired, bowing to Lady Wallace.
“Yes. However, I will be keeping a very cl
ose eye on you, Lord Samuel. I know of your reputation and will not tolerate any impropriety with Lady Brittany,” the countess sternly informed him.
“M’ lady, you have my word that I’ll be a gentleman,” he humbly replied, offered Brittany his arm to lead her to the floor.
As they twirled around the floor his behavior—or lack of— stunned Brittany. Not once did his hand move from the small of her back. To her astonishment they maintained the approved distance, in particular in the turns when a brushing of a body would have gone unnoticed, or even expected.
As they twirled around the room many of the young ladies, and one or two matrons, stared at them. Possibly even a glare from a few. Brittany wondered the reason. Because she was dancing with the notorious Lord Samuel? Certainly a man like His Lordship would have many ladies wishful for his attention. Little did they suspect his real purpose for being polite to her or they wouldn’t bother with the bitterness.
She tilted her face up to see his, not expecting to see what she did. A genuine smile. Not a false grin many gentlemen wore in the hopes to snatch a kiss later in the evening.
“M’ lord, is something troubling you?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. You remember from our earlier encounters I was upset you wouldn’t let me have the Hersey book. I understand from your godmother, who also is the mother to my friend Lord Cole, what your goal is. To compose a compendium of Africa thus the need for this particular tome.”
“Yes. Only a short while ago did she learn why I wished to have the book in my hands. What escapes me though, is why this particular edition is so interesting to you. There will be other copies.”
“Have you had a chance to peruse it? If so you’ll understand.” He swept her around a corner.
“Only briefly. Is there something I should be aware of?”
“Not that I’m aware of. With your permission, on the morrow might I call on you so I may have a look at the book? Then, I’ll be able to explain why my interest in this edition,” he explained.
Lady Brittany's Love Page 2
