Chapter Eight
The drawing room at Hawkins Manor, where the guests had gathered after dinner, mimicked a ballroom. Deep red-and-black silk paper covered the upper half of the walls above dark cherrywood wainscoting. Candelabras dotted the room, and fires burned brightly in the two fireplaces on either side of the massive space, the warmth needed with spring temperatures still chilly.
Giles leaned against the wall, sipping from his glass of brandy, as Lady Honora held center stage to explain there would be card games set up on the south wall of the drawing room, the billiard room was open, and for those who did not wish to play cards or billiards, parlor games would keep them amused.
Lady Hawkins announced she would lead the group to play cards, while Hawk stated the gentlemen interested in billiards could join him.
Still holding the brandy in his hand, Giles wandered from the sideboard and wove his way through the crowd to Suzanna’s side. She’d been avoiding him since they’d left the bookstore earlier. He hadn’t followed immediately, giving her time to calm herself. Then he’d purchased the copy of Persuasion for her and followed her down the street.
Once they’d reached The Rose and the Crown Pub, she’d immediately latched onto Lady Montford without giving him a second look. He’d sat with Hawk and Cam and the other gentlemen and had tried very hard to forget the nearness of Suzanna and the creamy skin he’d touched, lest he’d be unable to rise from the table with dignity when it came time to depart.
Giles walked up to Suzanna where she stood with Lady Penrose and Miss Granger. “Have you had a chance to begin Persuasion, Miss Blake?”
She regarded him coolly and shook her head. “No, not yet.”
“Oh, I just read that book last week,” Lady Penrose said. “It was very good. Probably one of Miss Austen’s best.”
“I really liked Pride and Prejudice, myself.” Miss Granger put her hand over her heart and sighed. “Mr. Darcy was so very romantic.”
“Indeed. One wonders how Miss Austen could write such romantic figures, given her spinster state.” Giles took a sip of his brandy and watched Suzanna over the rim of his glass.
As expected, she rose to the challenge and regarded him through narrowed eyelids. “An author makes up stories, Mr. Templeton. That is why it is called fiction. Do you think a writer who pens a murder mystery must commit murder to write about it?”
He grinned, happy to rile her. “Good point, Miss Blake. I bow to your superior intellect.”
“Ladies and gentlemen. Once the card players and billiard aficionados have departed, we will begin our games.”
“Which is it for you, Miss Blake? Billiards, cards, or parlor games?” Giles placed his empty brandy glass down and smiled at her.
“What is your preference?”
“Ah, no you don’t. I asked first.”
Lady Honora turned to Suzanna. “Oh, Miss Blake, you must join us in the parlor games.”
Suzanna stared at Giles, who adopted a very innocuous expression. She sighed. “Yes, I would be happy to join you in parlor games.”
“Wonderful, I would enjoy some parlor games, myself.” Giles grinned at Suzanna’s scowl. Score one for him.
They ended with three men and four women. Not to be deterred, Lady Honora scoured the room until she managed to pry Mr. St. Vincent from the card-playing group. “That’s perfect, now.”
“The first game is very simple. Each man will take a woman partner for this game.” Before she even finished speaking, Giles had moved next to Suzanna.
She stepped away.
He stepped closer.
She moved again.
So did he.
“Stop,” she snapped.
He regarded her, his eyes wide. “What?” Before she could answer, he turned to Lady Honora. “Miss Blake and I will partner for this game.”
She clapped her hands in delight. Hawk’s sister was so easily pleased. Too bad the woman of his affections was not.
Within minutes, everyone had a partner, and Lady Honora explained the directions. “Each couple will walk slowly past the table of items laid out. Every item begins with one letter of the alphabet. Once you have passed by, you must sit together and write as many items you remember. The couple who correctly identifies the most wins.”
Giles leaned toward Suzanna. “I’ll take the first half of the alphabet, you take the second.”
Suzanna smirked. “Do you always make the decisions for everyone?”
“No. Only for you and me.”
“There is no ‘you and me.’”
He hesitated and grinned. “There will be.”
She tried to hide it, as she swallowed and blinked several times. But he noted a distinct shiver at his words. Good. Reaction was what he strived for.
Lady Honora directed them to a table in front of the window with a tablecloth covering the items. “Here we are. Please line up and one couple at a time should walk past the table. The others must stay far enough away that they cannot see the contents.”
Giles and Suzanna took their place in line behind Miss Fenster and Mr. Davies. Miss Fenster turned to them. “I just love these games, don’t you, Miss Blake?”
“Yes. I do. I have quite the competitive spirit.”
Miss Fenster looked up at Giles. “And you, Mr. Templeton?” The girl batted her eyelashes. “Are you competitive, as well?”
Giles squeezed Suzanna’s elbow. “I would say I rarely lose when I set my mind to something.”
Miss Fenster blushed and fanned her face with her colorful fan. “Oh, my. That sounds so…bold.”
“Miss Fenster, Mr. Davies, it is your turn,” Lady Honora called to them from the table.
As the couple stepped up to the table, Giles whispered, “Do you think my statement bold, Miss Blake?”
“Foolish, perhaps.” She shook her head and pulled her elbow from his hand. “Overconfident. Brash. Presumptuous. There are several other words, but I think you understand me.”
“Indeed, I do. You have made me quite cognizant of your feelings. However, in all fairness, I must impress upon you that I still have every intention of prevailing.”
She adopted a bored expression and glanced around the room. “So you say.”
…
It didn’t work. Suzanna tried to ignore Mr. Templeton, tried very hard to pretend her heart wasn’t taking extra beats, her stomach had not been invaded by butterflies, and her nose did not smell the familiar and comforting scent of bergamot and him.
If this kept up, she would lose her heart to him, and end up married to one man while in love with another. Because she could not marry Mr. Templeton. If he didn’t leave her alone, she was headed for heartbreak. Many years of heartbreak.
“Your turn, Miss Blake and Mr. Templeton.” With a wave, Lady Honora beckoned them forward.
“Which letters did you say were mine?” she whispered. Lord, with him right alongside her, she couldn’t remember anything.
As they reached the table, he said, “The second half of the alphabet. That would mean N through Z.”
She huffed. “I know the alphabet, Mr. Templeton!”
He offered her his lopsided smile, and what he’d just said flew right out of her head. Taking a deep breath, she replayed his words in her mind, studying the objects on the table, and repeated to herself N through Z, N through Z.
They took a slow walk past the table, and she tried very hard to concentrate. Her eyes darted from object to object. Napkin, toast, salt, plate, water—or was that glass?
Once they made their walk, they both hurried to a vacant settee, and Mr. Templeton pulled out the paper and pencil they’d been given and began to write furiously, saying the words out loud. “Apple, biscuit, cheese, dates, eggs, feather—”
“Wait! Did you remember them in alphabetical order?”
He looked at her and frowned. “Of course. How else would I do it?”
Yes, how else would he do it? Her shoulders slumped. Now she would look like an idiot. She’d just scanned the table and tried her best in the short period of time allotted them to even attach a letter to the various items displayed.
While she mused, he continued to write and recite. “Jacket, key, lamp, monkey.” He looked up, pencil poised. “All right. Now it’s your turn.”
She startled. “There was a monkey on the table?”
Giles groaned. “No, Suzanna. There was a picture of a monkey. Although I guess it could also have been the letter P for picture. But that was your letter, what do you have for P?”
“P?”
“Yes. The letter that comes after O.”
The man was making her feel like her governess had years ago. She’d been a bit slow to catch on to reading, and her knuckles had been smacked a few times for writing her letters backward, although they hadn’t looked backward to her.
“Oh, yes. I remember. There was a plate.”
“Good. What else do we have?”
“Um, let’s see. There was a napkin, toast…”
“Yes, go on.”
“I’m thinking. You’re making me very nervous just staring at me with your pencil poised just so.”
“We have about another five minutes, and then I will collect the papers. Be sure to put your and your partner’s name on top.” Lady Honora stood next to the table which had now been recovered as she gave her instructions.
“What else?” Giles asked.
She closed her eyes, trying to remember. “Um, salt. Yes, there was salt. And…toast!”
“We have toast already.”
“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.”
He grinned. “Like what?”
“Like you think if I am unable to remember as well as you, that I am some sort of muddlehead.”
“I wonder if there is any particular reason you feel muddleheaded?” He grinned. The pompous man thought it was his nearness. Never would she admit such a thing to him. He was already too overconfident, and the way the other ladies in the carriage on the way to the village had spoken about him, he probably had women falling at his feet all the time.
Not her.
“I am not muddleheaded, I just need time to recall everything I saw on the table.” It was bad enough that he twisted her insides just by being near, but he also tangled up her words and thoughts.
“I can help.” He paused and leaned forward. “I can help with a great deal of things where you are concerned.”
Oh, how she wanted to slap that smug look off his handsome face. “You are purposely trying to confuse me, and if it is your intention to win this game, we should concentrate on finishing up.”
“You’re right.” He glanced again at the paper and began to write. “How about if we add orange, quizzing glass, rice, salver, umbrella, violin, water, xylographer, yellow scarf—which could also be for the letter S—and zero.”
Her jaw dropped, a very unladylike pose. “What’s a xylographer?”
“A wood engraver.” His head down, Giles continued to write in all the items he’d mentioned.
“You were also doing my letters.” Lord, she sounded like a pouting child. Was there nothing the man couldn’t do? “How do you know there was a zero?”
He looked up at her. “There was a piece of paper with a zero written on it.”
“Oh. Yes. I remember that.” She looked at his raised eyebrows. “I do remember it. You rattled off these things so quickly, you didn’t give me a chance to say them.”
“Ah. And you remembered them all, I assume?”
Indeed, a good slap to his arrogant face would be quite satisfying. She sighed and smoothed her gown. “All right. I will admit it. You did much better than I. How did you do that?”
Giles shrugged. “I’ve always had that type of mind. I can see something and it’s like my mind makes a quick drawing of it, so when I need to remember it, there it is.”
“You must have done quite well in school.” She had to give her grudging admiration for his ability to remember things. Now if only he would forget his intention to court her, she could relax around him, because she really did enjoy his company. He was all the things every woman wanted in a man.
Unfortunately, including her.
…
The group played three more parlor games. Giles lost interest by the middle of the second one. Beating the other couples in the first game had been enough of a challenge for one night. At least as far as games were concerned.
“I find myself growing quite warm after all this activity. Perhaps a walk in the garden would be just the thing, before tea is served.” Lady Honora was once again the ultimate hostess, which was beneficial to the guests, since Lady Hawkins had spent the entire evening playing cards. Which was where he would have spent his time, were it not for his pursuit of Suzanna.
After all the guests agreed, there was a flurry of activity as ladies donned pelisses and bonnets. Before anyone else could claim Suzanna—he’d seen Mr. Davies paying her particular attention—Giles took Suzanna’s arm and tucked it under his, against his side.
The air did feel wonderful after the heat of the house. Torches had been lit along the pathway, which stretched before them, winding around in curves, giving strollers a view of the extensive gardens Lady Hawkins took such pride in. Much of the comeliness of the floral arrangements was lost to the darkness, however, but a stroll in the dark with Suzanna held a certain appeal.
Giles held back, allowing distance to grow between them and the other couples. “The night air is quite refreshing,” Suzanna said. “I was growing overwarm during that last game. Although I always find charades fun.”
“Ah, yes. Parlor games. The very heart of house parties.” He slowed their pace even more, hoping Suzanna did not notice how far away from the others they were. It would be a wonderful end to the day if he could kiss her.
“I understand there is a picnic planned for tomorrow. Lady Honora mentioned at dinner that there are several rowboats to be had. Do you row, Mr. Templeton?”
Giles came to an abrupt halt, swung Suzanna around, and pulled her into his arms. “Suzanna. Every time we are alone, and you call me Mr. Templeton, I shall kiss you.”
“’Tis not proper to call you anything except Mr. Templeton.”
“Alone. When we are alone. No one will object, since no one will hear us.”
She gazed up at him, the light from the slight moon turning her fair skin to silver and her blue eyes to indigo. “Why is that so important to you?” The whispered words from her plump lips ended his control.
“Ah, you don’t understand, do you?” Before she could protest, or in fact, utter a word, he covered her mouth with his. His hands itched to run his fingers through her hair, but the bloody bonnet halted him. Instead, he spread his feet apart and cupped her bottom, pulling her against his growing hardness. He ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth, nudging, until she opened.
With a groan he swept in, loving her taste of mint and sweetness. One hand left her backside, and his fingers pulled the ribbon of her bonnet, releasing the bow tied under her chin. “I have to feel your hair. It’s like silk in my fingers,” he murmured against her lips.
At first Suzanna held herself stiff, but as soon as his hand wandered to her bottom, she slid her hands up his chest, to rest on his shoulders. She became a participant, and he pulled her closer, once again running his palm over the curves of her derrière, cupping and squeezing the soft flesh.
Aware that the pathway wove in circles and the other couples could be coming back, he slowly released her and, tucking her arm once more in his, continued the walk. They both took deep breaths, and he had the distinct impression if he had not been holding tightly onto her, Suzanna might tumble to the ground.
They said nothing as they continued their walk.
“My bonnet!” Suzanna pulled her arm free and hurried back to where they’d shared their kiss. He followed her and watched as she bent over to retrieve it. He closed his eyes, but it was too late. With the flaming torch right alongside where the wind had blown the bonnet, forever burned into his mind was the sight of her perfectly rounded bottom, outlined so exquisitely when her gown fell forward as she bent.
He took her arm once again. “I hear the others coming back; I think it would be a good idea to wait here for them so we can enter the house as a group. No gossip.”
“Yes.” She still sounded out of breath.
“Before they join us, I think you might want to fix your hair.”
She quickly smoothed out the sides and tucked the loose strands into the bonnet. “This must not happen again, Mr. Templeton.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, but this time, lightly, since the group was not far behind. “A kiss every time you don’t use my given name in private, Suzanna.”
She turned to stalk back to the house, but he grabbed her hand and they strolled together, their fingers intertwined, with the others only about ten yards behind them.
When they returned to the drawing room, the card players and those from the billiard room had gathered around the tea cart. Most of the men held glasses of brandy in their hands as they conversed. Small sandwiches, cakes, pies, and tarts were laid out, along with teacups and a teapot. Lady Hawkins and Lady Honora were busy pouring tea, while Hawk filled and refilled brandy glasses.
Giles joined Hawk and Cam and accepted a glass from him. “How was the billiards?”
Since Hawk and Cam were exceptional card players, they usually did not avail themselves of the game when at house parties. It would not be well done for Hawk to sit at the card table and fleece his guests. Although he had mentioned on occasion it might help pay for the expense of a house party, which could become quite costly to the host.
“Billiards were fine. How goes the big romance?” Only Cam could sip his drink and still smirk at the same time.
“I think it’s going well.”
Hawk glanced over Giles’s shoulder. “I must give you credit, Templeton. You did pick a beauty.”
The muscles in Giles’s stomach tightened. Amazing, how protective he was of Suzanna and how he already thought of her as his. “Don’t get any ideas, Hawk. It’s not just her looks—although I don’t object at all—she is truly a remarkable woman.”
Hawk studied him for a moment. “You know we wish you well, but I am still concerned about where this affair of the heart will end.”
“Have no fear. It will end exactly where I want it to end. At the altar.”