Chapter 6

 

“This is a dreadful idea, Aunt.”

Gideon chuckled at the voice of his soon-to-be-intended outside his bedchamber door. She clearly had no idea how far her voice carried. He could not hear the reply of Lady Wardlaw who had obviously perfected the art of hushed tones.

He had insisted that his valet at least have him sitting in a chair for this meeting, even though he was in a dressing gown and had a blanket over his knees. He felt like an old man. That said, he also felt as weak as a kitten and it did not sit well with him.

“I shall not marry him and I do not want to visit him in his bedchamber. He shall not change my mind.”

More hushed mutterings from the dowager viscountess.

“You should have refused on my behalf. I am Sophia’s guest, not his.”

Again, some murmurings.

“Yes, Aunt. It is his house but… oh very well. I cannot argue that point.”

There was a quiet knock on the door and once he had bid them enter, Lady Wardlaw entered looking somewhat harassed. He did not blame her. This chit was going to be a trial. The chit entered behind. She was wearing a light blue day dress with a white shawl around her shoulders. Her hair, while pulled up into a pretty style, was damp and her cheeks ruddy.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he intoned.

Lady Emily looked like a skittish horse who wanted to bolt. Lady Wardlaw looked severe. He had arranged for tea to be brought up and a maid placed the tea tray in front of Lady Wardlaw.

“I should really have had the tea tray placed in front of you, Lady Emily since you will soon be the lady of the house.”

“I…”

“Emily!”

Lady Emily looked at her aunt and turned a deep crimson colour, then concentrated on her hands in her lap which she began to twist nervously. She had obviously been about to refuse his suit.

“I do hate to be a burden, Lady Emily but would you mind passing me my tea,” he asked. She looked up into his eyes and gave him a tremulous smile. Her blue gaze was wary but there was a keen intelligence there. “I am still quite weak from my enforced bed rest.”

“Of course.” She jumped to her feet. “What do you take.”

“Milk and two sugars.”

She added both and passed him the cup and saucer. The porcelain rattled as her hand shook. She then fixed her own cup before sitting down.

“I think we should get right to it,” said Lady Wardlaw, but Gideon raised his hand surreptitiously, Lady Wardlaw saw his signal and gave him a knowing smile.

“You have misgivings about a match between us, I believe, Lady Emily.”

“Who told you that?” Her pert little chin raised and she looked directly at her aunt.

“You did when you stomped out of here last evening. Or was it still afternoon at that point. No matter. And just now. Outside my door. You really must learn to use a softer tone if you want to keep secrets.”

Emily bit her lip. He liked calling her Emily in his head, even if she had not yet given him leave to use her given name. She enthralled him. She was pretty enough. Not one of the beauties of the ton. He did not recall ever having met her at any of the social gatherings but then he avoided the most obvious entertainments of the marriage mart. At the balls he had to attend, he spent most of the evening in the card room and would dance, only when he felt he had to, usually with a friend of the family or with a distant cousin. Until now, he’d had no wish for a leg-shackle.

Her prettiness was understated. Her day gown was pleasing enough and hinted at full breasts. Her arms were slender which suggested her legs and waist would be slender too. Her face, while a deep shade of pink at present, was naturally like a peach and her blue gaze was guileless and innocent. Her long dark lashes brushed her cheeks and her tongue darted out to wet her rosebud lips. Damn, he wanted to kiss her again.

“As you see, my lord, I am really not a good match for a viscount.”

“Oh, I am sorry, my lady.”

She looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“I apologise for the low status of my birth. Were you holding out for an earl? Or perhaps a marquis, or even a duke? I know you are the daughter of an earl so my lowly birth was probably not what you were hoping for in the least.”

“N-no. It is not that.”

“Oh, I see. It is like the children’s story. You wanted a prince. I fear, the Prince Regent is already wed. Perhaps you are looking for a Prince for far-off lands.”

She gazed at him, a mixture of horror and confusion marring her pretty features.

“My Lord, I…” But Gideon could not hide his smile any longer.

“Lady Emily, I am…”

“You are vexing me.”

“A little. You look so serious. You are not here for me to pronounce judgement upon you. I only wanted to get to know you better. What activities do you enjoy?”

“I enjoy singing.”

“You do? Who is your favourite composer?”

“Johann Sebastian Bach.”

“Oh, I do love his music too. I enjoy Handel’s music just as well. Do you play the pianoforte?”

She scrunched her dainty little nose. “Alas, I had ten thumbs when I tried to play the piano. I play the harp adequately. What activities do you enjoy?”

“Horse riding.” Her eyes lit up at that. “I assume you like horse riding too.”

“Of course.”

“When I have my strength back, we shall go take the horses out. No doubt Sophia’s mare could do with a good gallop.”

“The ground is too wet to gallop.”

“I know of a few places we may be able to get up a little speed.”

“That would be nice.”

“Shall we say in around three days?”

She looked at him sceptically.

“My lord…”

“Please, call me Gideon.”

“Oh!” She bit her plump pink lip. God, it was adorable and it sent a spear of desire right through him.

“You do not wish to call me by my given name?”

“I… yes… but…”

“If you are not ready to give me leave to call you by your given name, then I can wait.” He gave her his most dazzling smile. The one he knew could charm the garters off the least willing widow.

“I would like you to call me by my given name, Lord… I mean Gideon.”

“It will be my pleasure, Emily,” he said. He lifted his cup to his lips and raised an eyebrow at Lady Wardlaw. She gave him the slightest nod of appreciation.

He turned the discussion to weather and the gossip from town. Both ladies joined in and they spent an interesting half hour in one another’s company. He found Emily to be a keen watcher of people. Her little asides showed an eye for details and curiosity about the people around her. He could tell she was used to being on the fringes of society, rather than in the heart of it, but it did not seem to perturb her in the least.

After tea, the ladies took their leave and Gideon was left to his thoughts. His thoughts turned to the young lady who would become his bride. What would it be like to bed her? He’d considered it a few times over the course of her visit to his bedchamber. The memory of their first kiss haunted him and he wanted a rematch. He had been wrong in his initial assessment of her. She was beautiful. It was just that he was not used to women who were not strutting in front of him like peacocks, trying to garner his attention. Her beauty was innate and masked by her lack of ambition to land a husband.

He imagined her naked on his bed, her long hair, cascading over the pillow, her breasts heaving in anticipation of their wedding night. Damn, he was getting aroused. Probably not a good idea, given his state of health. He hauled himself to his feet and hobbled to the window to look out on the waterlogged parterre gardens. Surely this weather couldn’t last much longer.