Chapter Three
Suzanna stared at Mr. Templeton with her mouth agape. Had she heard him correctly? He intended to ask Father’s permission to court her? She took in his tight lips and realized the man was serious.
“To say I am speechless is quite the understatement. Beside the fact that I already told you I do not wish to marry a man without a title.” Goodness, that sounded so churlish. But to imagine Mr. Templeton approaching her father, asking for permission to court her, brought her to the verge of panic. If Mother thought she was encouraging Mr. Templeton enough that he would make the trip to their country estate to seek approval, she would rise from her sick bed and descend upon London with a vengeance.
“As you’ve said. However, I plan to change your mind.” If anything, his stance grew more determined as he placed his feet apart and crossed his arms.
“That seems somewhat arrogant.” She sniffed. “I don’t believe I can be persuaded to change my mind.”
He shrugged. “I gather it won’t be easy. However, I intend to court you and win your hand. Be aware that I rarely fail any endeavor I set my mind to.”
“Oh, please. You make this sound like a threat. We are barely acquainted.”
“Call it what you wish. However, I agree, we are barely acquainted. I believe that is the purpose of courting, for a couple to get to know each other better. To see if they suit.” He reached out and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Do you deny the attraction between us?”
Heat rose to her face, and the now familiar flutters in her middle when she was near him returned with a vengeance. “As a sheltered young lady, I have no idea of what you speak.”
He leaned in and murmured in her ear. “Miss Blake, I have never courted a young lady of the ton, but I am quite familiar with the signs of attraction. If you insist on your ignorance of such matters, I am happy to inform you that you are as attracted to me as I am to you.”
She drew back. “Oh, you egotistical scoundrel!” She quelled the desire to stamp her foot like a child.
Instead of being insulted, he grinned at her. “Miss Blake, you wound me. How may I place myself back into your good graces?”
Honestly, it was hard to stay mad at the man. He took nothing seriously, and she found herself smothering a laugh. “You may start by promising you will not make the trip to Dorchester to speak with my father.”
He bowed. “Very well. I will wait. But as you’ve been warned, when I put my mind to something, I do it with the full intention of winning.”
She shook her head, and they continued their walk. Mr. Templeton’s remark about the attraction between them was true. She was sheltered from things having to do with relations between men and women, but she could read. She and her cousin Patience had scoured the library in their grandparents’ home one summer, looking for anything that would answer the questions they were asking each other.
Not only had they found a book to answer their questions, it had raised speculation as to how a person could twist their body into such awkward positions.
Mr. Templeton slowed their steps as they neared the patio door. “I would like to leave you with something to think about regarding my intentions, which I assure you are honorable.”
She viewed him with narrowed eyes. What was he up to now? “And what is that?”
His large hand cupped her chin and held it lightly. “Just a small token of my esteem.” Before she could absorb that remark, he lowered his head and placed his lips on hers. Soft, warm, moist. She had fantasized about her first kiss, and that was the last complete thought she had.
Mr. Templeton wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his rock-hard body. He nudged her lips with his tongue, and once she parted, he swept in, his well-practiced skills bringing her untried senses to life. Never had she felt this way before.
The light scent of brandy and mint from his warm mouth eased her, while his wicked tongue touched all the sensitive parts of her mouth, creating havoc with her body. Her clothing felt restrictive, the tips of her breasts tingled, and the place between her legs grew moist and heavy.
He moved her head into a different position and took the kiss deeper. With her heart pounding in her ears, her thoughts spun, and she clung to his arms as if he were a beacon in a storm. Now she fully understood why innocent young ladies were protected from the rakes of the world. She was in danger of sliding to his feet in a puddle and offering him whatever it was he wished.
Slowly he pulled back and looked in her eyes. Her eyelids felt heavy, her body languid. Surely her face was flushed, and her heart thumped a cadence, as if she’d dashed over the hills at her country estate. She didn’t know whether it was a good or bad thing that Mr. Templeton seemed to have a hard time gaining air himself.
Without another word, he took her by the arm and walked her from the garden back into the house. Her thoughts were still muddled, and it wasn’t until they reached the front door that she spoke. “Thank you for your visit, sir.” She barely heard her own breathless voice.
He bowed over her extended hand. “It has been my pleasure, Miss Blake. Might I expect to see you at the Andrews rout later this evening?”
She stared at him for only a moment, trying to digest his words. “Yes, I believe Lady Montford accepted for both of us.”
“Excellent.” He took his hat, cane, and gloves from the man at the door and hurried down the stairs, leaving Suzanna dazed and dismayed because of her mother’s edict.
…
Giles entered White’s and immediately spotted Hawk and Cam.
“Well, don’t you look like the cat who stole the cream.” Hawk eyed him over the rim of his brandy glass as Giles sat in the chair across from his two friends.
“I take it the bridegroom is entertaining his new wife this evening?” He sat back and rested his booted foot on his knee.
“I am sure any one of us would be doing so, had we been foolish enough to get ourselves leg-shackled. After all, there must be some reward for giving up one’s independence,” Cam said. “However, you have neatly dodged our question. What is it that has you looking so smug?”
“You might be correct to say I stole the cream.” He grinned and waved to the footman to bring him a brandy.
He wasn’t sure he’d stolen the cream, but he was certainly a bit closer to it after the kiss he’d shared with Miss Blake. She had never been kissed before. At least, not really kissed—maybe a fumble in the dark with an untried youth.
Her reaction had been all he’d hoped for and more. ’Twould be no time before he had her exactly where he wanted her.
“I assume this has something to do with the lovely Miss Blake?” Cam nodded his thanks as the footman placed a bottle of brandy on the table in front of him. “’Tis no secret you had a fancy for her at Bedford’s wedding.”
“You might say that.” Giles reached over and poured a healthy amount of brandy into his glass. He took a sip, then leaning forward, dangled it between his knees. “I plan to marry her.”
Hawk choked, causing Cam to slap him on the back. They both stared at Giles, wide-eyed. “Marry her?” Hawk squeaked, still unable to catch his breath.
“Yes. I do. I know neither of you believe in love at first sight—”
Two very loud groans interrupted him.
Giles glared at them. “—but from the moment I set eyes on Miss Blake, I knew she was the one for me.”
Cam turned to Hawk. “Do you hear violins playing in the background?”
“Sounds more like angels singing, accompanied by a harp.” Hawk’s retort was followed by a huge grin that annoyed Giles even more than the two dimwits’ words.
“Or the rattle of leg shackles.” Cam seemed to recover himself first. “And what does Miss Blake say about this? Or have you not advised her of your plans?”
“I have not formally proposed, but I told her I intend to pay her my address. Most young ladies know precisely what that means.”
“Ho, knowing women as I do, I am sure you telling her must have gone over quite well.” Hawk shook his head and regarded Giles as if his brain had suddenly slipped out of his ear.
“I admit, there is some reluctance on the part of my soon-to-be bride, but I have plans to overcome that.” He was fully aware how arrogant that sounded, but he had no intention of losing Miss Blake.
“Care to share those plans?” Cam asked. “Just in case I meet a woman I barely know, whom I immediately decide to marry, and tell—not ask—her of my intentions. One likes to be prepared for all circumstances.”
Despite the ribbing of his two friends, he continued. “As a matter of fact, I will need your help.”
Hawk turned to Cam. “Here it comes.”
“Hawk, it is past time you held a house party. I know your mother and sister would love to have the opportunity to display their hostess skills.”
“Strange you should say that, since only yesterday m’mother cornered me to make certain I remembered to give her an accounting of the guests I wished her to invite to a house party she is hosting in two weeks. It seems she and my sister have been planning it for months, but I have been remiss in adding names to their list.”
“Excellent. Please have them add Miss Suzanna Blake and myself.”
Hawk studied him. “You must be serious about this young lady if you purposely plan to attend a house party. If memory serves, we have all successfully avoided such events for years.”
Cam stood and stretched. “If you two are going to be subjected to giggling young ladies and marriage-minded mamas for the duration of a house party, you might as well add my name to that list, Hawk. Perhaps, we can sneak off and do some hunting or visit the local pub.” He downed the last few sips of his brandy and placed the glass on the table. “But now I must leave your exalted presence to meet with my man of business. He’s as dry as burned toast, and boring as a blade of grass, but he manages my affairs quite nicely, so I tolerate his demand that we meet at least once a quarter.”
Giles watched Cam wander the room and exit through the front door. He turned to Hawk. “I’m serious about her, Hawk. She is perfect for me. I’ve always wanted a woman who is gracious, kind, has a brain between her ears, and is not hard to look at.”
“And in your brief history with Miss Blake you have ascertained all of this—though I admit the not-hard-to-look-at part is obvious.”
“Yes, I have. It’s real, and I intend to pursue her. You know, as well as I do, that so many of the young ladies coming onto the Marriage Mart are looking for titles, money, and a handsome face.”
“I hate to drag you back from your comfortable perch up there in the clouds, but I heard your Miss Blake make it clear, at least to Bedford and his wife, that she is interested in marrying only a man with a title.”
Giles waved him off. “Yes, she said something along those lines to me, too. But nothing about the girl points to such superficiality. I’m quite sure that is a childish dream, similar to a knight-in-shining-armor arriving at her front door on a white steed. A wish that she either has outgrown or will shortly.”
“You are indeed quite sure of yourself, my friend.”
“Hawk, when have you ever known me to not succeed at something I set my mind to?”
Hawk shook his head. “In finance, horses, and gaming, yes, you generally succeed. But you are treading into unknown territory here.”
“I have no concerns.”
Hawk slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “I hope, for your sake, you are right, my friend. I, personally, have found women of the ton to be somewhat deceptive while on the prowl for a husband. At least this one is forthright about what she wants. Whether you can change her mind or not, remains to be seen.” He rested his hand on Giles’s shoulder. “Just don’t get in too deep.”
“Have no fears. I know what I am doing.”
…
Suzanna pretended she was not searching for Mr. Templeton as she listened to Lady Selina go on about how certain she was that the Earl of Bartlett was about to offer for her. The entire ton had witnessed the earl’s mother dragging young ladies in his direction for more than a year, yet he’d made it clear that he had every intention of adding many more years to his bachelorhood, despite his mother’s growing consternation. Unless Lady Selina threw herself into his arms in the dark and was caught, Suzanna doubted the earl would offer for her. Even then, he might very well find a way to wiggle out of it.
The heat of the room, with bodies jammed together, the scent of pomades, perfumes, wax from the candles, and other smells she did not wish to identify, was making her stomach churn. Why hostesses felt it was an accomplishment to claim a “crush” the morning after an affair—simply because they packed in as many people as they could—annoyed her.
Plenty of the ton’s practices raised her hackles. Her mother’s demand that she wed, not a man, but his title, for one. Families oftentimes arranged marriages based on the groom relieving the bride’s family of crushing debt, usually brought on by wastrel fathers. Old men married young girls in a last attempt at an heir. She shivered at the thought of climbing into bed with someone with wrinkled skin and ice cold hands—old enough to be her grandfather. Hopefully, Mother would not come up with someone like that for her.
“Good evening, Miss Blake. I am quite surprised I was even able to find you in this crowd.” Mr. Templeton carried two glasses of champagne. “Lady Selina, good evening to you, as well. Would you ladies care for champagne?”
“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Templeton.” Lady Selina giggled and batted her eyelashes. For someone who just claimed to be practically betrothed to an earl, she certainly seemed quite taken with Mr. Templeton’s attention.
Suzanna took the glass from his hand and raised it to her lips. The bubbles tickled her skin, causing her to scrunch her nose. “I love champagne, but I wish it didn’t bubble quite so much.”
“Ah, but that is the appeal. Don’t you agree, Lady Selina?”
Selina smiled as she took another sip. “Yes. I love the bubbles, myself.” Suzanna had the feeling the girl would love anything Mr. Templeton said. Selina glanced over Suzanna’s shoulder and frowned. Suzanna looked behind her to see Lady Honeyfield, Lady Selina’s mother, bearing down on them.
“Excuse me,” the girl said. Then, after shoving her champagne glass into Mr. Templeton’s hand, she turned abruptly and headed in the opposite direction.
Lady Honeyfield skirted Suzanna and Mr. Templeton and continued following her daughter.
“I wonder what that was all about?” Suzanna said as they watched the two of them play cat-and-mouse across the room.
Mr. Templeton shook his head. “When it comes to mothers, I try my best to steer clear of them. I have enough trouble dealing with my own.”
Suzanna couldn’t help but think how grateful she was that her own mother was still in the country. Not that she was happy Mother was sick, but the Season would not be quite as enjoyable were she in Town with her. She was thoroughly enjoying the napping and card-playing Lady Montford as her chaperone.
“I find I am feeling a bit overwhelmed in this heat. Would you mind escorting me outside for some fresh air?” It was probably not the best idea to ask him, of all people, to take her outside, but she was feeling more and more airless. Damn her stays. The champagne had not helped. In fact, it seemed to make her feel worse.
“Certainly. You do look a bit peaked. Here, take my arm.” He extended his elbow and she grabbed onto him, thankful for his sturdiness. They made their way through the crowd, trying hard not to stop too often to exchange greetings. Mr. Templeton kept glancing in her direction, and given his frown and tight lips, she most likely didn’t look well. She felt quite ill.
She stumbled, not sure if it was her feet giving way, or if she was on the verge of fainting. Though she’d never swooned in her life and had no intention of doing so in front of half the ton.
Mr. Templeton wrapped his arm around her waist, which was inappropriate, but she didn’t care. She wanted only to get outside where she could breathe. He placed his palm on the door and pushed, leading her through. There were groups of people on the patio, and she began to panic, thinking there was nowhere she could go without being surrounded.
“I need to get away from people.” She barely got the words out, her breath coming in pants.
“Try to relax; you are working yourself into a dither. We will walk slowly down the path, where there are fewer people.” With his arm still wrapped around her, they made their way past the steps of the patio, along the passage from the house to the garden. As they walked farther from the house, her breathing began to return to normal, and her lightheadedness faded.
She took a deep breath, wishing she could access more air, but her stays were inhibiting her. Mr. Templeton continued to study her as they walked. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. I believe I am.” Now that her body had calmed down, she realized he still held her, and the warmth from his body next to hers was causing another sort of disquiet. Here she was in a dark garden, with the man who had kissed her senseless the last time they were together. Would he do so again? Do I want him to?
She came to a stop and turned to him, so he was forced to release her. “Thank you for the rescue, Mr. Templeton. I was feeling quite poorly, and without your quick action, I might have embarrassed myself by swooning like some silly debutante.”
He reached out and ran his finger down her cheek. She had the strange urge to turn her head to have his full hand cup her face. “You are no silly debutante. And I am happy to have helped. But I have a favor to ask of you.”
Oh, dear. She was already on her guard, not sure what to expect next from this man. “What is that?”
“This.” With that simple word, he swooped in, pulling her close, and he covered her lips with demanding mastery.
Oh Lord, not again!