Good Earl Hunting
Page 4
Finally he blew out his breath. “I know Tim thought it was important,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being one of the few people with whom I’ve spoken since to also think so. Most sympathize and say he deserved a better death, as if there was such a thing.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she burst out, relieved, then clapped her free hand over her mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “I mean, I was afraid I’d offended you,” she muttered through her fingers.
Thankfully he smiled as he plucked her fingers away from her face. “I’m not offended. I am somewhat curious as to why you’re suddenly concerned over offending me. A few minutes ago you couldn’t wait to foist me off on your sister.”
“It was more than a few minutes ago. And my acquaintance with you previous to today consisted of you asking me to dance because it was expected, and then ignoring me. And admittedly I wasn’t terribly happy to be one of the chits catapulted at you. I know you must have thought I was after you.”
He laughed. “You made it quite clear from the onset that you weren’t dancing with me to please yourself. Don’t worry on that count.”
“Oh. Well good, then. I suppose.”
Geoffrey studied her serious, thoughtful expression for a long, hard beat of his heart. Clearly she saw her tendency to be...forthright as a flaw. In previous conversations with men more expecting of flattery, it had likely caused her trouble.
“I’m glad you speak your mind, Theodora,” he commented, selecting the longer trail that rounded the lake when it curved away from the shorter one leading back to the garden. The more time he had alone with her, the better. Of course this way she could also push him into the water if she decided this was some elaborate jest, but it was a risk he was willing to take. The more he spoke with her, the more she fascinated him. “And I’m glad that other men find that off-putting. Otherwise neither of us would be standing here at this moment.”
“Then you truly didn’t come to Beldath to hunt foxes? Or to court Belle?” From her tone Theodora still didn’t quite believe he was doing anything but teasing. The idea made him angry – not at her, but at whoever it was, whatever it was, that had convinced her being herself was unattractive.
Best make his intentions unmistakably clear, then, before she assigned him some other sin. “No. I’m here to hunt foxes or your sister,” he confirmed. “I’m hunting you, Theodora Meacham.”
Color darkened her cheeks, and for the first time in their admittedly short acquaintance she didn’t seem to know what to say. He found that rather encouraging. Taking advantage of her discomfiture, Geoffrey faced her. Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he leaned in to taste her mouth again.
He’d kissed women before; hell, he’d had lovers before. But the stutter of his heart at the touch of her soft lips...that was new. Perhaps it was merely his mind attempting to convince his soul – or vice versa – that he’d found the one, but given that at first glance she was absolutely not the wife for a man new to his title and one who had only inherited accidently, this pull he felt for her was more than just circumstance. And she tasted like strawberries.
If he’d had any doubts before about whether he’d been right to pursue a lady he’d only met twice and with whom he’d clashed on both those occasions, this kiss answered them, shot them in the arse and sent them running away. Her arms lifted to wrap around his shoulders, and desire pulsed through his muscles warm as summer.
The other women throwing themselves after him – the eyelash flutterers and weather chatterers – had no idea. But why would he want a compliant, demure porcelain doll when he could have a challenge, a conundrum, a match? Of course the other side of this equation had to come to the same conclusion for this to work, because she would never agree to marry him otherwise.
And that idea didn’t startle him or trouble him in the least. He’d been bandying about in his head for weeks, and his only worry had been that Theo wouldn’t be what he’d remembered and what he’d discovered about her had been incorrect. And that she wouldn’t feel the same pull between them that he did.
Slowly he lifted his head again, looking down at her oval upturned face with her closed eyes, long lashes, and soft, parted lips. Hopefully that kiss had done at least something to convince her that they belonged together. If it hadn’t, he’d lost before he’d barely begun.
Her eyes opened, light green with a thin rim of brown around the edge of the iris. Lovely eyes. Eyes he could imagine gazing into for a very long stretch of years to come.
“You know,” she said, her voice a touch breathless, “you may not be as objectionable as I first thought.”
“I’ll call that progress.” And that remained the crux of the problem, as well; he liked her already, but she hadn’t yet decided how she felt about him. Particularly since in her mind he hadn’t come to Devonshire with her in mind at all.
She grinned. “You’re an optimist.”
“I suppose I am.” He smiled back at her, mentally crossing his fingers and sending up a prayer to whomever might be listening. “But there’s one more thing you need to know. I’m not the only one tired of the mob of females and the parade of fox hunts. My father expects me to marry by the end of the year. If I don’t, he’ll find someone for me and see that I do so, anyway.”
That particular conversation had likely been the least friendly one he’d ever had with his father, but he did understand the old marquis’s reasoning. And he wanted Theodora to understand it, as well. “He lost a son two years ago, Theo. He’s worried about losing another, and about his...legacy, I suppose it is. He wants to know that everything’s been set to rights.”
She furrowed her brow. “And those other house parties with the half dozen foxes?”
Geoffrey shrugged. “I couldn’t very well refuse. And I suppose I was looking. But I’ve been comparing every female I meet to one lady. To you.”
“Based on two very brief conversations?”
It didn’t quite seem the time to admit that he’d been interrogating everyone he could find about her. Not if he didn’t wish to send her fleeing. “Not only that. But I need to know if you think you could – if you would at least consider the idea of...of me, I suppose.”
“A few days to decide the course of the remainder of my life? That’s quite daunting.”
“And not very romantic,” he agreed, wishing he’d foregone the other visits and come to Beldath earlier. That he hadn’t wasted so much time, and that he had more of that same time to convince her of what he’d known for a certainty the moment he’d spied her again by the stream, bedraggled and spattered with mud. “But there is some saying or other about the longest journey beginning with a single footstep. Everything begins somewhere. Perhaps we begin right here.”
She sent him a thoughtful smile that seemed to have sunlight at its edges. “Perhaps we do.”
Chapter Five
THE SUN WAS the merest sliver over the western hillside when Theodora and Geoffrey returned to the manor house garden. She almost attempted to convince herself this was all a dream, but that would have meant waking up to realize that Geoffrey had come to Beldath in pursuit of Belle after all, and that she was the matrimonial choice only for men who needed money.
Geoffrey held her hand as they passed the autumn roses, every press of his fingers against hers sparking warmth and wonder. The cynical part of her, the one that knew how ill she showed in public, couldn’t help pointing out that her enthusiastic reaction to his pursuit was simply because she’d never experienced such a thing before. The rest of her wasn’t doing much thinking at all. Instead she drank in every word of conversation, every whisper of a touch, so she would never forget how she felt for those moments.
Beneath his bed chamber window he tightened his grip on her hand, then released her. “I have to leave you here,” he muttered.
Immediately Theodora looked from him up to the open window and back again. “That’s how you escaped?”
“You said you didn’t want anyone to know we were meeting. As
I seem to become the Pied Piper the moment I leave the bed chamber, I thought climbing out the window would be wiser. So now I have to return the same way, or the flock will begin lurking out here, as well.”
A few hours ago she might have responded to that statement with faux sympathy over his unfortunate popularity. She knew more about him now, however, about how he’d found himself in a position he didn’t relish, about how he’d been shoved into the middle of polite Society when he’d been perfectly content to remain on its fringes. And how he was being pushed toward marriage – and how he’d told her all of that voluntarily. If he merely needed a convenient bride, he certainly didn’t have to look as far afield as her. Aside from that, he’d gone through a great deal of trouble to chat with her when she’d been somewhat – very well, quite – prickly toward him. And he kissed magnificently. “Please be careful,” she said aloud, taking a step back.
“You didn’t suggest I break my neck,” he returned with a grin. “More progress.”
Her cheeks heated. “It’s only that I would be blamed for it if you fell,” she grumbled. Yes, she liked him, suddenly and a great deal more than she’d ever expected. But she was not a soft, fluttery sort of female, for heaven’s sake.
“Of course,” he returned, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. “Sit beside me at dinner.”
She almost nodded. “I can’t!” she remembered belatedly. “We already sat together at luncheon. People will talk.”
“Good. I want them to.”
“B–“
”I have no need, or desire, to hide my interest in you. My attraction to you. In fact, the only thing I wish to hide is that I know how to make an escape for the occasional private walk.” Geoffrey turned for the trellis, then stopped and faced her again. “One more,” he murmured, walking back up to her and capturing her mouth with his.
This kiss was not as delicate as the first two. Oh, heavens, she was counting them. Hot and plundering, it stole her breath and made her clutch his shoulders to keep from sinking to the ground. Heat speared down her spine, leavingt her feeling...wanton, primal, wishing she could pull off his brown jacket and tan waistcoat and the fine-spun shirt beneath to run her hands along his bare, warm skin.
Wearing a grin that looked a bit breathless, himself, Geoffrey backed to the wall, grabbed a rung of the trellis, and climbed up to his window with far more grace than she ever could have managed.
For a long moment after he disappeared inside, Theodora gazed up after him. She could feel the words from Romeo and Juliet bubbling up in her chest, and resolutely turned away. She was not Juliet, he was not Romeo, and they were not star-crossed lovers doomed by their forbidden passion.
“There you are,” Belle said, walking into the garden from the direction of the front of the house.
Or perhaps she and Geoffrey were doomed, after all. “I was out walking,” she announced, too loudly.
“I thought you must be.” Annabel took her arm and wrapped her hands around it. “Come inside. We need to change for dinner, and you must tell me what you and Lansing talked about at luncheon. Did he mention me?”
Had he mentioned Belle? Oh, dear. Theodora scowled. How was she supposed to proceed? What if she told Belle that he was interested in her younger sister? What if it was all some rose-scented dream, after all?
When Annabel nudged her shoulder, she blinked. “Beg pardon?”
“I asked if you told Vashton that I enjoy riding, and that mama’s been letting me plan the household meals for nearly a year.” Belle furrowed her perfect, slightly-arched eyebrows. “And you shouldn’t go walking so much. You’ll end up with man legs if you keep that up, and no one will want to marry you.”
Ha. Someone already did. “I wasn’t hiking the Lake District, Belle,” she retorted. “It was just a stroll around the pond.”
“Fine. I didn’t mean to insult you.” Her sister sighed. “It’s only that after luncheon Lord Vashton went upstairs to take a nap. After he came all this way to meet me, I haven’t even had a chance to do more than wish him a good morning.”
“He came all this way because he was invited to a fox hunt,” Theodora countered. “And if you want to know if he likes you, ask him.”
“Oh, as if I would be so bold.” Abruptly Belle stopped. As her hands were wrapped around her sister’s arm, Theodora was forced to halt, as well. “What in the world is wrong?” the twenty-two-year-old demanded. “Has someone else caught his eye? It’s not Rachel Henry, is it? Oh, I should have realized when she stole the seat next to him at luncheon. I knew we should never have invited her. She’s always been jealous of me, as if I have any say over the color of my eyes or my height.”
Was it insulting that Annabel had never considered her own sister to be a romantic rival, or was it a compliment to her supposed loyalty and integrity? She didn’t feel in great possession of either one, at the moment. “What about Vashton?” she asked aloud.
“What do you mean, ‘what about Vashton?”
“I mean, it takes two to make a match. A hundred women could make eyes at him, but he has to like one of them back if anything’s going to happen.”
“You do know something,” Belle returned, narrowing her pretty emerald-colored eyes. “He fancies someone. Who is it? Has he declared for her? Do I still have a chance to win his affections?” She seized Theodora’s arm again. “If there’s been no declaration, then nothing is settled. Is she here? Is that why he’s come?”
Theodora squeezed her eyes shut for a heartbeat. This was not a conversation she could have. Not at this moment. “Just stop asking me questions, will you?” she snapped, yanking her arm free and striding for the front door. “If you want to know something about Lord Vashton, ask Lord Vashton, for heaven’s sake!”
Her sister likely thought she’d gone mad, but as she stalked upstairs to her bed chamber to change for dinner, Theodora didn’t care. She hadn’t gone looking for Geoffrey Kerick. He’d told her that he liked her. So why did she feel like a criminal? How could she have stolen a man from Belle if Belle had never had him in the first place? And why the devil was she stuck in the middle of all this?
Halfway into her room she changed direction and stomped down the hallway past a handful of surprised guests to Geoffrey’s door. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and pounded on the sturdy oak door.
It opened, and a short, balding man leaned his head out. “Lord Vashton is changing for dinner and cannot be disturbed,” he said, his voice and mouth pinched. “He will be down shortly.” Before Theodora could utter a word, he closed the door again.
For a moment Theodora stood there looking at the door. Abruptly she noticed the other half dozen people lurking in the hallway directly around the earl’s door – the rats to Geoffrey’s Piper, she assumed.
Well, that hadn’t gone as planned. And if she barged in now, within five minutes everyone would know. But if he sat beside her at dinner after doing the same at luncheon, even Belle would have difficulty ignoring the obvious.
Considering how much time she’d spent watching her sister and her polished friends, she also knew what would happen next; she would be accused of stealing Lord Vashton away from them. Because why would he favor her, otherwise? Scowling, she banged on the door again.
It rattled open. “As I said, Miss, his lordship is indisposed at the moment. Y–“
”Tell him that Theodora wishes a word with him,” she interrupted, ignoring the responding snicker coming from Catherine Oswell in the hallway behind her.
“Theodora who, M–“
The door jerked open, and a shirtless Geoffrey Kerick stood there, looking at her. “Find me a cravat, Grosvenor,” he ordered, stepping back to allow her entry.
Walking into the room of a half naked man would ruin her. “I’ll remain here,” she stated, deciding that a great injustice was being perpetrated by everyone who insisted that gentlemen wear shirts. Her fingers twitched with the abrupt desire to run her palms along his skin.
Shaking herself, she lifted her gaze from his well-muscled chest. “Um, no. I... Are you courting me?”
With a half grin he leaned against the door frame. “If you have to ask, I must be doing it wrong. Yes, I’m courting you, Theodora.”
That made her smile in what she imagined was a ridiculously happy expression. “Good.” Then she remembered the difficulty ahead of her, and pushed the bubbling laugh back into her chest. “No one will believe that I didn’t trap you or something.”
Geoffrey lifted an eyebrow. “Ridiculous.”
The fact that he thought so made her like him even more. “To you, perhaps, but I know these people. I need to explain things to my parents. And to my sister.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Geoffrey, if I don’t, Belle will hate me, and my parents will think I’ve... misbehaved.”
His chest and fine shoulders distracted her again as he took a slow breath. “For the last damned time, Theodora,” he murmured, half lifting a hand toward her and then lowering it again, “don’t apologize because someone else finds – because I find – you irresistible. I will speak to your parents. And your sister, if you wish, though I certainly don’t owe her an explanation.”
“I do, though.” Not that Belle would believe her.
The smile touched his mouth again. “Then we’ll do it together.” He tilted his head a little. “This may seem sudden to you, but you know I’ve been planning this for months. And my largest worry was that you wouldn’t like me.”
She hadn’t liked him two months ago. Though the more she considered it, the more she wondered whether her ungainly manner hadn’t been because she had liked him and because everyone else in her family had simply assumed that firstly she would go talk to him on Belle’s behalf because they’d asked her to, and that secondly they expected him to overlook her simply because they did so.