Of course it would. But she couldn’t let him suspect that all he’d have to do was ask nicely and she’d most likely let him do whatever he wanted.
‘It would.’ She sighed in defeat. And laid her hand upon his sleeve in the prescribed manner. They set off, side by side.
After they’d gone a few yards in silence, he cleared his throat. ‘I have not answered your question, have I? The one about what I am doing here. Because, clearly I was waiting for you. There could be no other reason for me to be loitering outside the gates of Lady Buntingford’s property, could there?’
He sounded a touch nervous now. At least, he was very nearly babbling. In a manly sort of way. Was there a manly way to babble?
‘The truth is...the truth is...well, after you left Bath, I didn’t know what to do with myself. So I came down here to speak to you. Which meant speaking to your grandfather first, to get his permission.’
‘His permission? To walk me home from Lady Buntingford’s?’
‘No. To marry you, of course.’
‘Ma...? Ma...? Ma...?’
‘I can see I have taken you by surprise. Had you no idea this might happen? That I might look upon you as my future bride? No, I can see you did not,’ he said when she continued to try to breathe and swallow. Which was proving hard enough, without trying to form words as well.
Oh, Lord, any other woman would have received a marriage proposal with far more aplomb. They would have batted their eyelashes and smiled prettily, and said something about what an honour he was doing her. At least that was what heroines in books did. She didn’t know what real women did, having no close female friends with whom to compare notes.
‘It is true that we only met a few times. And, had you not left Bath, I would have spent more time getting to know you. Trying to find out if my first impressions of you were enough upon which to build a lifetime together.’
‘First impressions? I soaked you with water.’
‘For which I was extremely grateful. It was undrinkable.’
‘But...but...’
‘And then you fenced with me. Don’t you remember?’
‘All those dreadful puns—yes, of course, I remember.’ A smile tugged at her lips in spite of herself. That had been the only time she’d ever actually enjoyed a conversation in the Pump Room. The only real conversation she’d had there, to be honest. Usually she just stood there listening without being expected to make any kind of answer.
‘But, marriage? Truly? Can that really be what you want? How can you be sure?’
‘This is not the kind of response,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘that a man hopes to hear when he proposes to a lady.’
‘You haven’t actually proposed. You have merely informed me that you obtained permission from Grandfather to...er...’
‘Exactly,’ he said cheerfully. ‘He has agreed that I may spend some time getting to know you, the way I would have done had you not left Bath in such haste. After that, should I propose, you will not be able to accuse me of not knowing my own mind. And you will also have time to make up your mind about me.’
A peculiar sensation twisted her insides into a knot. When she set her mind to analysing it, she discovered that there was a good deal of panic in it. Panic that she’d put him off, when, had she not been so determined to show him she wasn’t going to fall into his hands like a ripe plum, she could be betrothed to him. Right this minute.
And yet there was also a kernel of something else, telling her that she’d done the right thing. A man couldn’t know he wanted to marry someone after ten minutes of banter and a couple of country dances. Could he?
‘How long do you think it might take?’
‘To persuade you that I am the man for you? Only you can decide that.’
‘No, I meant...’
‘Miss Hutton, do you honestly think that I would have chased you all the way to the back of beyond if I wasn’t already pretty sure how I feel about you?’
‘You...you...you couldn’t possibly have fallen in love with me on the spot. Things like that don’t really happen. Not to girls like me.’
There was a face peering out at them from the baker’s, through one of the panes of windows that wasn’t broken. As they went past his shop the greengrocer stepped into his doorway and placed his hands on his hips. Lizzie pretended she hadn’t seen them.
‘I will level with you, Miss Hutton,’ said Captain Bretherton in a rather more serious tone. ‘I did not fall in love with you on the spot, no. I liked you. I felt...attracted to you. But then, when we danced and we matched each other so well, it was as though...it is hard to explain. Well, I’ve already told you, haven’t I, that I felt you were my match. And how so many women make me feel like a clumsy great gowk, they are so tiny and...fluttery,’ he finished in a tone of disgust.
She reflected that she’d shared the same sort of feelings with him. She’d told him how much she’d enjoyed dancing with him. How enjoyable it was to have a partner who could cope with the length of her stride. Not to mention her weight. Had she told him about the little man she almost swung off his feet, at one of her very first dances, when she’d let caution fly to the winds?
As though he was in tune with the direction of her thoughts, he chuckled. ‘Did I tell you about the woman I almost ejected through a window?’
‘No.’ It was uncanny. They’d both had similar experiences with members of the opposite sex. Had both felt big and ungainly and awkward, and had revelled in the feeling of having someone who...matched, for want of a better word.
He patted her hand where it lay on his sleeve. And all of a sudden, restraint between them ceased. For the rest of the walk home, they chatted with perfect ease, about disasters they’d had with members of the opposite sex. Incidents which had been mortifying at the time, once shared with him, now felt amusing.
All too soon they were crunching their way along the gravel drive to her front door.
She paused at the foot of the steps. Did she invite him to come in and take tea? To dine with them? Would Grandfather allow it? He’d given Captain Bretherton permission to court her, by the sound of it, but she had no idea how it had come about. And whether Grandfather had given his blessing willingly, or grudgingly. Oh, she really should have talked to the Captain about it during their walk home, rather than waste their time together trying to outdo him with tales of clumsiness and ineptitude.
‘So, Miss Hutton, here you are, safe and sound at your door. And I must bid you good day. May I see you again?’
Oh, thank goodness. He’d taken control of what happened next. While at the same time letting her choose what happened after that.
‘I am putting up at the Three Tuns, in Peacombe. It takes no time at all to get up here.’
‘I know. I go down to use the library regularly. And Grandfather likes to go into the coffee room and read the London papers, and gossip with anyone who happens to be around.’
‘When will you next be visiting the library, might I enquire?’
If she said tomorrow, would that sound too eager? It wasn’t even as if Lady Buntingford needed a new book, since she hadn’t read any of the current story today.
‘It depends...’ she said, when he shifted his feet, as if growing impatient to hear her answer.
‘On when your grandfather can spare you,’ he said. ‘Of course. It...’ He looked up at the sky, which was threatening rain again. ‘I would call upon you and ask you if you would agree to come for a drive, or a walk with me, if the weather was a bit more promising.’
Something in the tone of his voice made up her mind for her.
‘That was exactly what I meant. I mean, I wouldn’t be walking all the way down to Peacombe if it was raining hard. And I never know if Grandfather is going to take it into his head to get out the carriage and drive down himself...’
The set of his shoulders altered.
&nbs
p; ‘Then that settles it. I shall procure a smart carriage and come up to collect you, tomorrow, and drive you into Peacombe, where we can take coffee in the reading room after you have browsed the library, if it is raining. Or leave it in your stables so that we can go walking if it is fine.’ His shoulders rose again. ‘If that is agreeable to you. I am sorry. I am so used to giving orders and having them instantly obeyed I forget that with you, I should be asking what you would like.’
She got that feeling again. That feeling of having come across a kindred spirit. ‘It is agreeable to me.’ Very agreeable that he sounded so keen to start courting her. ‘And I can always tell you, can I not, if you are growing too dictatorial? Don’t forget I am used to dealing with officers.’
‘Your grandfather.’
‘Yes. But my brother was starting to rise through the ranks before he...’ She sucked in a sharp breath as a pang of loss pierced her sharply. She shook it off. ‘Though even before he got promoted he was always the leader of the two of us.’
‘You had a brother?’ He gentled his voice in a way that imparted the necessary sympathy and understanding without him having to put it in words. ‘Was he older than you?’
‘Yes. By several years. And after our parents died, he took to trying to provide for me...’ She shook her head. She really didn’t want to talk about Sam, not now.
As though he understood her feelings perfectly, he leaned forward and pressed her hand.
‘Do you know, I think I can understand why your grandfather dislikes the thought of you wearing spectacles. It would be a shame to hide your eyes behind thick lenses. They are so very lovely. The colour reminds me of the sea, in parts of the Bay of Naples. A blue I thought I’d never see anywhere else...’
He was looming in closer. So close she could see the blue of his own eyes. And the intensity of his regard. It was as though he was looking at her with his entire face. Then his gaze went to her mouth. He parted his lips. And then blinked and suddenly withdrew.
‘I look forward to seeing you tomorrow then,’ he said. And with that he was gone. Leaving Lizzie standing on the front step, watching his outline growing steadily smaller and more blurred as he strode down the gravel path to the front gate.
He paused, just after going through it, giving Lizzie the impression he was looking back. That impression was confirmed when he raised his hat and waved it to her. Blushing, she darted into the house. Oh, Lord, he’d caught her staring after him like a...like a...like one of those lovesick heroines from the ridiculous novels she read to Lady Buntingford.
And yet, did it really matter? He’d turned back, too, to have one last look at her. And he’d been thinking about kissing her. She was almost sure he had.
Her lips lifted in a dreamy smile.
She had a suitor. A genuine, proper, handsome suitor. Who wanted to marry her. Her. Lizzie Hutton.
She sighed and drifted through the hall, up the stairs and into her room. When normally, she would have reported straight to Grandfather upon her return from Lady Buntingford’s.
Actually, that was what she should do. She turned on her heel and marched straight back downstairs again. She needed to find out what had caused Grandfather to change his mind about Captain Bretherton. He’d removed her from Bath because he’d said she was making a fool of herself over a practised seducer of women. In no uncertain terms.
What on earth could Captain Bretherton have said to cause such an about-face?
Chapter Twelve
Lizzie wasn’t sure whether to be glad or sorry when she looked out of the window first thing the next morning to see that the skies were overcast. It meant he was likely to come and collect her in his carriage, if he’d really meant what he’d said about them getting to know each other. Which he might not. Now he’d had a night to sleep on it, he might have woken up in a cold sweat, wondering what on earth had possessed him to follow her all the way down here.
Because he was an earl. That was why Grandfather had changed his mind about letting him dangle after her, as he put it. And he had estates somewhere in Scotland.
She took off her spectacles—the ones she wasn’t allowed to wear outside the privacy of her own room—went to the washbasin and poured warm water into the basin. If Captain Bretherton, or Captain Lord Bretherton as she ought to properly call him, hadn’t changed his mind, she would much rather walk out with him somewhere. Because then they could talk to each other freely. If they went up on to the moors, for instance, there would be nobody else about to overhear them.
And he might, if she was very, very lucky, go further than merely thinking about kissing her.
She splashed cool water on to her overheated face. And then imagined what people would say if they did spy her luring him up to a deserted spot so she could somehow get him to kiss her.
Poor Miss Hutton, they’d say, so desperate for a man she latches on to the first one to show any interest. And then they’d snigger.
Perhaps Captain Bretherton had been wise to suggest they spend some time getting to know each other so they could decide if they would suit, rather than just plunging headlong into matrimony after a few minutes flirting and a couple of country dances. People would mock her if she appeared too desperate.
Hah! They mocked her anyway.
She dried her face, flung the towel down on the wash stand and went to her armoire. And frowned at the selection of gowns hanging there. Why, oh, why hadn’t she taken the opportunity, while she’d been in Bath, to do some shopping, as Lady Mainwaring was always urging her to do?
Because then she’d have had to have the bills sent to Grandfather, that was why. And while he’d never yet complained about the expense of keeping her, she knew he wasn’t exactly rolling in money. He’d told her that he had made sure she would not be destitute, if anything were to happen to him. But in the meantime she’d have to get used to living frugally.
So she pushed aside any resentment about having to button herself up into the same gown she’d worn the day before. And would wear again tomorrow, like as not. She reminded herself to be grateful that she had a roof over her head and plentiful food. And that Captain Bretherton had said he was interested in her because she wasn’t a little, feminine, dainty creature, dressed up in the height of fashion. At least, he hadn’t said anything about fashion, but then what kind of man did? Not the kind she’d ever be interested in, that was certain.
She put on her spectacles and glowered at her reflection. No chance of anyone describing her as dainty, or fashionable. She had to either bend her knees to see her head as well as her toes when looking in the mirror, or step far enough away that she dissolved into a blur.
She took off her spectacles and flung them on to her dressing table. She never liked examining herself too closely. It was too depressing. Though he had said he liked her eyes. She leaned closer into the mirror, so that she could see them. They were nothing out of the ordinary. Her eyelashes were rather pale. She’d always thought they were a bit bland. But he’d said they reminded her of the sea. The sea in an exotic place. And he hadn’t needed to say that.
Unless he thought he ought to pay her some compliments, if he was going to persuade her to marry him.
And it had taken him the entire walk home to come up with that one. Her stomach clenched. And once she got downstairs she found she could only pick at her breakfast.
‘What’s got into you this morning, girl?’ Grandfather lowered his brows and glared at her when her cup slipped through her fingers and landed with a clatter in its saucer, causing most of what tea that remained to slop over the rim.
‘You startled me.’
‘By sitting here?’
‘No, by barking at me like that. You don’t usually talk much at table.’ Especially not in the morning.
‘Well, you don’t usually fidget and sigh, and keep gazing out of the window rather than tuck into your food, young lad
y. If this is the effect having a suitor is going to have upon you, I might have to send him packing.’
Her stomach plunged. She didn’t think she’d made any outward show of how she felt, but she must have done, because Grandfather gave a bark of laughter.
‘So, that’s the way the land lies, is it? Taken a fancy to him, have you?’
‘I...well, I...’
‘Seems to be a sound sort of chap.’
‘That wasn’t what you said when you brought me home from Bath,’ she said, resentment making her speak out when normally she would have held her tongue.
‘That was before I knew he was in earnest.’
And before he’d discovered he was an earl.
‘Devil take it, girl, what was I to think when I heard you’d been holding hands with a man you’d only just met and without him coming to ask me for permission to try to fix his interest with you?’
‘Yes, well...’
‘Hanging around the Pump Room in a shabby uniform two sizes too big for him, looking like a stray mongrel on the lookout for a juicy bone. But if it’s a wedding ring he has in mind, that’s a different matter. Particularly now he knows you ain’t an heiress.’
‘I... Oh!’ Grandfather had thought the only reason any man could be dangling after her was if he was a fortune hunter, mistakenly believing she had one. Well, he’d as good as said so before.
‘No need to look at me like that. I know what a good girl you are, but you have to admit you ain’t the kind that draws a lot of attention from eligible men. Not in all the years you’ve lived under my roof, you haven’t.’
‘No.’ Well, there was no arguing with that. But before she could grow too despondent over her acknowledged lack of feminine allure, Sergeant Hewitt came in and cleared his throat.
‘There is a visitor for Miss Hutton. Captain Lord Bretherton.’
What, now? While they were still sitting down to breakfast?
‘Well, show him in, man, show him in.’
Lizzie looked wildly round the table. For a moment she had the almost overwhelming urge to run to the mirror to check that her hair was tidy. Goodness, she couldn’t recall brushing it. She lifted her hand to her head and found that she had, at some point, braided it and coiled it round her head the way she always did.
The Captain Claims His Lady Page 9
