Читать онлайн книгу «An Experiment in Love» автора Louise Allen
An Experiment in Love
Louise Allen
Fast Fiction Historical - short romantic stories to take you back in timeBelieving she's unlikely to ever have any man offer her marriage, unconventional Lady Chloe Albright impetuously seizes the chance of a pretend engagement with Lord Christopher Fellingham, Earl of Twyford. Having loved Kit for years, she's learnt to carefully hide the pain of knowing that she is no more to him than his friend's studious little sister. But should she now put her research skills to good use and try some experiments in love?At turns kissed, flirted and argued with, Kit doesn't know whether he is more amused, annoyed or —dare he admit it?—aroused by Chloe's unexpected attention. Suddenly he's wishing that their pretend engagement could become the real thing!
An Experiment in Love
Louise Allen
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Title Page (#ued84b405-aa4a-5786-879f-94c73541fa26)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
‘Gentlemen do not whimper.’
‘Gentlemen don’t snigger at their afflicted friends either,’ Lord Christopher Fellingham retorted as he threw himself into an armchair in James Albright’s library.
‘Snigger?’ Lord James blinked at his old friend through the thick lenses of his spectacles. ‘Never. But why were you courting the chit if you’ve no intention of marrying her?’
‘I was not courting her. I’ve known Antonia Woolmer since she was in the cradle. I was squiring her about, making her feel at ease in Town. Being neighbourly.’
‘But if you’ve been betrothed to her for years…’
‘It was a jest! Our fathers came up with the hair-brained scheme in their cups and it became a standing joke. You know the sort of thing, When you two young people are married, blah, blah. Then she’d blush and giggle and I’d put a frog in her pocket.’ Kit gestured, the heavy gold signet on his left hand catching the late afternoon sunlight. ‘We didn’t take it seriously, never spoke of it. Never agreed to it. Now, five months into her first Season, he’s demanding to know when I’m going to propose to her. The dratted man is doing everything except load his shotgun.’ He shuddered. ‘He’s in no mood to listen to reason!’
‘You can see why,’ James said. ‘He’s a country squire, you’re the Earl of Twyford, an excellent catch for his daughter and he believes he has you netted. But if you know her and like her enough, why not marry her? You were saying you were serious about settling down, establishing the nursery, all that.’
‘Because she’s a sweet girl with the brain of a peahen,’ Kit said. ‘And a giggle like a Guinea fowl.’ James winced. ‘If there are two ideas in her head, beyond shopping and fashions, I’ve never heard her utter them.’
‘Ah.’
‘Ah, indeed. I might be resigned to marriage but it doesn’t mean I’ve got to settle for a lifetime with a woman who makes my ears bleed with boredom after an hour.’
‘And who giggles. Yes, I understand. But what are you going to do?’
‘Tell him I never took it seriously, that I regard Antonia in the light of a sister.’
‘Will he accept that?’
‘Doubt it.’ Kit hunched a shoulder defensively. ‘Damn it, he thinks she’s perfect, but she’s not. Not for me. If I can’t get out of this with some smidgeon of honour then the pair of us will be condemned to a lifetime of indifference, at the best.’
‘Are her affections engaged?’ James asked. ‘If she’s in love with you, there’s no getting out of this.’
‘Lord no. She confides in me about one man after another. Perhaps she’d like an officer because of the uniform. Or a duke, because she’d like to be Her Grace. Or she thinks black-haired men are the most dashing. But she’ll obey her papa, that’s the rub.’
James got to his feet with a snort of laughter. ‘Good thing you are a civilian, blond earl, then. Well, now you’ve taken refuge here, you’d better make yourself at home. They’ve put you in the Green Bedchamber. I’ve got to talk to my secretary. Help yourself to the decanters, old man.’ He paused with his hand on the catch. ‘You’re done for unless you can convince him that you’ve a prior obligation—and a damn good reason for keeping it quiet.’
‘Hell.’ Kit stared at the closing door and then, with yearning, at the brandy decanter. Getting foxed wouldn’t make Antonia vanish. ‘What am I going to do?’
There was a sound from the far corner where a winged chair stood facing the shelves. A tousled head, crowned with two goose quills, appeared over the back and an oval face with a smudge on the chin and a pair of gilt-framed spectacles perched on its nose regarded him solemnly. ‘You could marry me,’ suggested the young woman. ‘I don’t mind.’
Chapter Two (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
‘…marry me.’ What on earth have I done? Chloe thought. Kit Fellingham was staring at her as if she had escaped from Bedlam.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded with less than gentlemanly finesse. At least he was not running. Yet.
‘Chloe Albright. Don’t you remember me?’
‘The bluestocking?’
Chloe hated that word. If a woman had a glimmering of intelligence and opinions of her own she was labelled a bluestocking. Which came with the subtext, eccentric, unfeminine and likely to run off to Wales to live with another woman in a man-hating household.
‘No,’ she said coldly, getting down from her unladylike position kneeling on the chair seat. ‘I am a scientist. A geologist to be exact.’
‘Plutonist or Neptunist?’ he demanded, startling Chloe. Not even her own family remembered that much information.
‘Plutonist. Which are you?’
‘I don’t know enough about it to form an opinion.’
A sensible answer. Chloe added intellectual humility to the other good points Kit possessed, which included being the nicest man she knew after her own brother. She hoped he hadn’t changed, it would be dreadful to propose to a man she could not like, even if it was all a ruse.
‘I have James Hutton’s work on the subject if you wish to borrow it,’ she offered. ‘I’m reading the final volume.’
Kit drew in a deep breath through his admirably straight nose which caused his equally admirable chest to expand while he narrowed his penetrating blue eyes at her and swept the dark blond hair from his forehead with one long-fingered hand. Aah…Chloe told herself that it was a perfectly rational female response to feel shaken, and stirred, by the display of so much masculinity.
‘Lady Chloe. We have moved from a proposal of marriage to the formation of the earth. Might we return to the former topic? Unless I misheard you?’
‘No, I did say it.’ Now was the time to blush prettily, but she had never mastered the art. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing. You’re in a fix. You’ve known me for ever, so we might have formed an attachment.’
‘I can recall you as a child. You used to help James get around.’ Her brother had poor eyesight from an early age, but he’d never let it hold him back. ‘But since then? You are out, aren’t you?’
‘I am two and twenty,’ Chloe said. ‘I have had three Seasons and danced with you during all three.’ And you did a very good job of convincing me you were having a delightful time. ‘I did not take. I am much happier as a scientist.’
From Kit’s face she could see he was not at all surprised she had not taken. Had his charm when they had danced been simply good manners? He had been amusing, interested and…special when they had talked. Handsome, of course, but that was not why she had felt as she had. As I do. It was inexplicable, irrational, and somehow that had convinced her as nothing else would have done that she truly had lost her heart. An impossible daydream, of course, but at least she could help him out of this situation.
As Kit’s expression shifted from baffled to mildly pitying she tore her gaze from his face. ‘Where have I put those quills?’
‘The two in your hair?’
Oh Lord… Her spectacles slipped and Chloe looped them into the chain around her neck with one hand while she plucked out the quills with the other. Most of her hair came down.
‘Tell me, Lady Chloe…’ She found Kit standing right beside her. ‘…Why should you want to marry me?’ He lifted his hand and cupped her chin. His thumb brushed across the point, sending shivers down her spine and Chloe wondered what he would say if she told him the truth.
Because being yours is my dearest fantasy and now I can pretend, if only for a very little while?
Chapter Three (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
Chloe was a rational woman. A scientist. Intellectually she knew she was unlikely to melt because a handsome man was caressing her chin, but it felt uncomfortably as though she was about to test the theory. She realised Kit had asked her a question.
‘You are in a difficult position and I can help you. James said you needed a prior engagement and a reason to keep it quiet. The scandal over my sister Penelope’s engagement would work. How could I be celebrating my own betrothal when poor Penny has broken off with Andrew White?’
‘Strong-minded lady, your sister.’
‘Of course! She found the beast having an orgy with Lady Isobel Jervis and she is still very upset.’
Kit released her chin. ‘That’s better. You had a smudge.’
Wonderful. ‘Thank you.’ I think. Her skin still tingled.
‘I agree your suggestion is feasible and would certainly convince Squire Woolmer, but what benefit is there for you?’
‘The knowledge that I had prevented an unhappy marriage taking place? The gratification of assisting an old friend of James’s?’
‘It seems rather a drastic way of offering help.’ His gaze moved to the stacks of books, the papers and the tray of rocks beside her chair. ‘Surely there is a gentleman who wishes to fix his interest with you?’ he asked. ‘I have no wish to be called out.’
‘There is no one else. You are perfectly safe.’ That brought the colour up over his cheekbones and she realised it must seem as though she doubted his courage. ‘I mean, there is no danger you would be hurting anyone.’
‘No? What about you?’
He was admirably scrupulous. ‘There is no risk to me.’ Liar.
‘Would we convince anyone?’ Kit still seemed doubtful. ‘What do we have in common?’
‘We don’t have to tell anyone except the Woolmers.’ He frowned at that, and she could see he might have scruples about the deception. They could discuss details later, but, after all, this would just be a temporary thing, until Antonia Woolmer fixed her interest elsewhere, and then they could discreetly ‘discover’ that they did not suit.
‘We are both intelligent and well-bred so Mr Woolmer would not be surprised at an engagement between us on, er…dynastic, grounds. Of course, people do say I am eccentric, but I assure you I have been trained to run a large household and I do not spend all my time hitting rocks with a hammer. He will see that I’m plain, and that might surprise him because you are known to be a high-stickler…’
‘You are no such thing.’ Kit frowned at her, doubtless searching for some feature he could compliment her upon and finding himself stymied by spectacles, wayward brown hair, freckles from being outdoors without a hat and, unlike her siblings, an undistinguished nose. ‘And I’m known to be what?
‘You must admit that you only flirt with the loveliest women.’
‘I —’
‘Thought I heard your voice, Chloe.’ It was James, head tilted to one side as he worked out who was in the room and where. ‘What are you doing? Keeping poor Kit from his brandy?’
‘Not at all,’ Kit said. He sounded a trifle strained, but that must be the effect of having to remain polite in the face of her proposition, instead of laughing his head off. ‘Lady Chloe, would you excuse us? I need to ask James’s permission.’
‘Permission?’ But she was of age and knew her own mind perfectly well and this was only pretence, after all.
‘About the matter we were just discussing, my dear.’ My what? But the flat of his hand, lightly against her back, urged her towards the open door. ‘We can discuss it again after dinner.’
And then she was outside, staring at the unyielding oak panels. Faintly she heard James’s voice. ‘You want to do what?’
Chapter Four (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
‘I want to marry your sister Chloe,’ Kit repeated. He would never have thought of it, but now Chloe had suggested it, it seemed an ideal solution to his problem.
James sat down with a thump in the nearest chair. ‘Forgive me. But why?’
‘Because I hold her in high esteem, naturally. As you know, Antonia Woolmer apart, I was intending to find a bride this Season. Chloe has all the qualities I am looking for in a wife —’
‘And you just happened to be struck all of a heap by this revelation five minutes after telling me of your despair at being entrapped by the Woolmers?’ James did not sound pleased. Kit could hardly blame him. An earl for a brother-in-law was one thing, but no man wanted to think his sister was being used.
‘Actually, it was Lady Chloe’s suggestion,’ Kit offered. ‘I haven’t persuaded her, rather the other way round.’ Not very gallant, but this was James, after all. He’d understand.
Or not, apparently. ‘You are telling me she needed to persuade you that she was an eligible bride?’
‘No! Not at all.’ He must stop digging himself into this hole before the sides caved in. ‘Lady Chloe overheard our conversation. She proposed…suggested that we tell Woolmer of our engagement using her sister’s recent troubles as an excuse for not announcing it earlier. Naturally, I was reluctant to take advantage of her in any way.’ That could have been better put. The hole was getting deeper, along with James’s frown. ‘Take advantage of her generosity, that is. I think we would suit.’
And, surprisingly, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to him that they would suit. She was intelligent, well-bred, presentable. Well, she could be, if she stopped sticking pens in her hair… He’d been taken aback by the directness of her approach but he supposed she was tired of being the spinster sister. But he wouldn’t hold her to it, not if she got cold feet when she’d considered it at leisure.
‘I must talk with her.’ James shook his head. ‘I don’t understand this, she is rarely impulsive. Too much the scientist, I suppose. We had given up trying to persuade her to consider marriage.’
‘Did she hate the Season so much?’
James shrugged. ‘No-one took her seriously and then when she did find someone who was interested in geology they had a blazing row because he accused her of being irreligious and refusing to accept the approved date of the earth or something.’
‘Bishop Usher.’
‘No, he was a baronet.’
‘The bishop worked out the age of the earth from the Bible,’ Kit explained patiently. No wonder poor Chloe was anxious to leave home if her family knew less about geology than he did. ‘The baronet must have been a Neptunist—that theory explains everything in the earth in terms of Noah’s flood.’
‘Sounds as if you understand her better than he did, at any event.’ James perked up a little. ‘You both need to sleep on this, it is too important for a spur of the moment decision.’
‘Perhaps I should go back to the Clarendon,’ Kit suggested. The ceilings of his town house were being replastered after the water tank had burst the week before and James had invited him to stay upon hearing he was putting up in an hotel.
‘Does Woolmer know you’ve moved here? Best stay below the horizon until you and Chloe get this resolved, given that he’s out for your blood.’
True, but a night’s sleep away from this house might remove the sensation of careering downhill on an out-of-control sledge. A tap and the door opening prevented him agreeing. ‘A Mr Woolmer for Lord Twyford, my lord. He appears a trifle…agitated.’
‘Hell.’ James muttered. ‘Dunton, tell Mr Woolmer that his lordship is not in and we are not certain when he is returning.’
‘I regret, my lord, that Lady Chloe was crossing the hall when the gentleman arrived, told him Lord Twyford was here and took him into the drawing room. She requested the presence of you both.’
‘If she has told him she’s betrothed to you, then that’s final,’ James pronounced. ‘I don’t care whether you’re suited or not. I’m not having another sister’s marriage causing a scandal.’
Chapter Five (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
Kit realised that he was committed to marry Chloe, whether she liked it or not. Her suggestion had been impulsive and well-meant and his insistence on formally asking James’s permission had been intended to push her into considering more carefully. But now that Woolmer knew…
For himself, he could contemplate with equanimity marriage to an intelligent, kind young woman who was the sister of a good friend. He did not expect a love match and it seemed that neither did she. But he had wanted her to think about it first.
James opened the door into the drawing room onto muffled sobs and a deep, rather desperate, voice saying, ‘There, there, Lady Chloe, you mustn’t take on so.’
‘But I feel so guilty,’ Chloe wailed from the depths of a large handkerchief that must belong to Mr Woolmer. ‘I could tell you were upset. If he had been able to tell you earlier…I told Kit we could not announce our betrothal until poor Penelope recovered from her tragic disappointment.’
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Louise Allen
Fast Fiction Historical - short romantic stories to take you back in timeBelieving she's unlikely to ever have any man offer her marriage, unconventional Lady Chloe Albright impetuously seizes the chance of a pretend engagement with Lord Christopher Fellingham, Earl of Twyford. Having loved Kit for years, she's learnt to carefully hide the pain of knowing that she is no more to him than his friend's studious little sister. But should she now put her research skills to good use and try some experiments in love?At turns kissed, flirted and argued with, Kit doesn't know whether he is more amused, annoyed or —dare he admit it?—aroused by Chloe's unexpected attention. Suddenly he's wishing that their pretend engagement could become the real thing!
An Experiment in Love
Louise Allen
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Title Page (#ued84b405-aa4a-5786-879f-94c73541fa26)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
‘Gentlemen do not whimper.’
‘Gentlemen don’t snigger at their afflicted friends either,’ Lord Christopher Fellingham retorted as he threw himself into an armchair in James Albright’s library.
‘Snigger?’ Lord James blinked at his old friend through the thick lenses of his spectacles. ‘Never. But why were you courting the chit if you’ve no intention of marrying her?’
‘I was not courting her. I’ve known Antonia Woolmer since she was in the cradle. I was squiring her about, making her feel at ease in Town. Being neighbourly.’
‘But if you’ve been betrothed to her for years…’
‘It was a jest! Our fathers came up with the hair-brained scheme in their cups and it became a standing joke. You know the sort of thing, When you two young people are married, blah, blah. Then she’d blush and giggle and I’d put a frog in her pocket.’ Kit gestured, the heavy gold signet on his left hand catching the late afternoon sunlight. ‘We didn’t take it seriously, never spoke of it. Never agreed to it. Now, five months into her first Season, he’s demanding to know when I’m going to propose to her. The dratted man is doing everything except load his shotgun.’ He shuddered. ‘He’s in no mood to listen to reason!’
‘You can see why,’ James said. ‘He’s a country squire, you’re the Earl of Twyford, an excellent catch for his daughter and he believes he has you netted. But if you know her and like her enough, why not marry her? You were saying you were serious about settling down, establishing the nursery, all that.’
‘Because she’s a sweet girl with the brain of a peahen,’ Kit said. ‘And a giggle like a Guinea fowl.’ James winced. ‘If there are two ideas in her head, beyond shopping and fashions, I’ve never heard her utter them.’
‘Ah.’
‘Ah, indeed. I might be resigned to marriage but it doesn’t mean I’ve got to settle for a lifetime with a woman who makes my ears bleed with boredom after an hour.’
‘And who giggles. Yes, I understand. But what are you going to do?’
‘Tell him I never took it seriously, that I regard Antonia in the light of a sister.’
‘Will he accept that?’
‘Doubt it.’ Kit hunched a shoulder defensively. ‘Damn it, he thinks she’s perfect, but she’s not. Not for me. If I can’t get out of this with some smidgeon of honour then the pair of us will be condemned to a lifetime of indifference, at the best.’
‘Are her affections engaged?’ James asked. ‘If she’s in love with you, there’s no getting out of this.’
‘Lord no. She confides in me about one man after another. Perhaps she’d like an officer because of the uniform. Or a duke, because she’d like to be Her Grace. Or she thinks black-haired men are the most dashing. But she’ll obey her papa, that’s the rub.’
James got to his feet with a snort of laughter. ‘Good thing you are a civilian, blond earl, then. Well, now you’ve taken refuge here, you’d better make yourself at home. They’ve put you in the Green Bedchamber. I’ve got to talk to my secretary. Help yourself to the decanters, old man.’ He paused with his hand on the catch. ‘You’re done for unless you can convince him that you’ve a prior obligation—and a damn good reason for keeping it quiet.’
‘Hell.’ Kit stared at the closing door and then, with yearning, at the brandy decanter. Getting foxed wouldn’t make Antonia vanish. ‘What am I going to do?’
There was a sound from the far corner where a winged chair stood facing the shelves. A tousled head, crowned with two goose quills, appeared over the back and an oval face with a smudge on the chin and a pair of gilt-framed spectacles perched on its nose regarded him solemnly. ‘You could marry me,’ suggested the young woman. ‘I don’t mind.’
Chapter Two (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
‘…marry me.’ What on earth have I done? Chloe thought. Kit Fellingham was staring at her as if she had escaped from Bedlam.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded with less than gentlemanly finesse. At least he was not running. Yet.
‘Chloe Albright. Don’t you remember me?’
‘The bluestocking?’
Chloe hated that word. If a woman had a glimmering of intelligence and opinions of her own she was labelled a bluestocking. Which came with the subtext, eccentric, unfeminine and likely to run off to Wales to live with another woman in a man-hating household.
‘No,’ she said coldly, getting down from her unladylike position kneeling on the chair seat. ‘I am a scientist. A geologist to be exact.’
‘Plutonist or Neptunist?’ he demanded, startling Chloe. Not even her own family remembered that much information.
‘Plutonist. Which are you?’
‘I don’t know enough about it to form an opinion.’
A sensible answer. Chloe added intellectual humility to the other good points Kit possessed, which included being the nicest man she knew after her own brother. She hoped he hadn’t changed, it would be dreadful to propose to a man she could not like, even if it was all a ruse.
‘I have James Hutton’s work on the subject if you wish to borrow it,’ she offered. ‘I’m reading the final volume.’
Kit drew in a deep breath through his admirably straight nose which caused his equally admirable chest to expand while he narrowed his penetrating blue eyes at her and swept the dark blond hair from his forehead with one long-fingered hand. Aah…Chloe told herself that it was a perfectly rational female response to feel shaken, and stirred, by the display of so much masculinity.
‘Lady Chloe. We have moved from a proposal of marriage to the formation of the earth. Might we return to the former topic? Unless I misheard you?’
‘No, I did say it.’ Now was the time to blush prettily, but she had never mastered the art. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing. You’re in a fix. You’ve known me for ever, so we might have formed an attachment.’
‘I can recall you as a child. You used to help James get around.’ Her brother had poor eyesight from an early age, but he’d never let it hold him back. ‘But since then? You are out, aren’t you?’
‘I am two and twenty,’ Chloe said. ‘I have had three Seasons and danced with you during all three.’ And you did a very good job of convincing me you were having a delightful time. ‘I did not take. I am much happier as a scientist.’
From Kit’s face she could see he was not at all surprised she had not taken. Had his charm when they had danced been simply good manners? He had been amusing, interested and…special when they had talked. Handsome, of course, but that was not why she had felt as she had. As I do. It was inexplicable, irrational, and somehow that had convinced her as nothing else would have done that she truly had lost her heart. An impossible daydream, of course, but at least she could help him out of this situation.
As Kit’s expression shifted from baffled to mildly pitying she tore her gaze from his face. ‘Where have I put those quills?’
‘The two in your hair?’
Oh Lord… Her spectacles slipped and Chloe looped them into the chain around her neck with one hand while she plucked out the quills with the other. Most of her hair came down.
‘Tell me, Lady Chloe…’ She found Kit standing right beside her. ‘…Why should you want to marry me?’ He lifted his hand and cupped her chin. His thumb brushed across the point, sending shivers down her spine and Chloe wondered what he would say if she told him the truth.
Because being yours is my dearest fantasy and now I can pretend, if only for a very little while?
Chapter Three (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
Chloe was a rational woman. A scientist. Intellectually she knew she was unlikely to melt because a handsome man was caressing her chin, but it felt uncomfortably as though she was about to test the theory. She realised Kit had asked her a question.
‘You are in a difficult position and I can help you. James said you needed a prior engagement and a reason to keep it quiet. The scandal over my sister Penelope’s engagement would work. How could I be celebrating my own betrothal when poor Penny has broken off with Andrew White?’
‘Strong-minded lady, your sister.’
‘Of course! She found the beast having an orgy with Lady Isobel Jervis and she is still very upset.’
Kit released her chin. ‘That’s better. You had a smudge.’
Wonderful. ‘Thank you.’ I think. Her skin still tingled.
‘I agree your suggestion is feasible and would certainly convince Squire Woolmer, but what benefit is there for you?’
‘The knowledge that I had prevented an unhappy marriage taking place? The gratification of assisting an old friend of James’s?’
‘It seems rather a drastic way of offering help.’ His gaze moved to the stacks of books, the papers and the tray of rocks beside her chair. ‘Surely there is a gentleman who wishes to fix his interest with you?’ he asked. ‘I have no wish to be called out.’
‘There is no one else. You are perfectly safe.’ That brought the colour up over his cheekbones and she realised it must seem as though she doubted his courage. ‘I mean, there is no danger you would be hurting anyone.’
‘No? What about you?’
He was admirably scrupulous. ‘There is no risk to me.’ Liar.
‘Would we convince anyone?’ Kit still seemed doubtful. ‘What do we have in common?’
‘We don’t have to tell anyone except the Woolmers.’ He frowned at that, and she could see he might have scruples about the deception. They could discuss details later, but, after all, this would just be a temporary thing, until Antonia Woolmer fixed her interest elsewhere, and then they could discreetly ‘discover’ that they did not suit.
‘We are both intelligent and well-bred so Mr Woolmer would not be surprised at an engagement between us on, er…dynastic, grounds. Of course, people do say I am eccentric, but I assure you I have been trained to run a large household and I do not spend all my time hitting rocks with a hammer. He will see that I’m plain, and that might surprise him because you are known to be a high-stickler…’
‘You are no such thing.’ Kit frowned at her, doubtless searching for some feature he could compliment her upon and finding himself stymied by spectacles, wayward brown hair, freckles from being outdoors without a hat and, unlike her siblings, an undistinguished nose. ‘And I’m known to be what?
‘You must admit that you only flirt with the loveliest women.’
‘I —’
‘Thought I heard your voice, Chloe.’ It was James, head tilted to one side as he worked out who was in the room and where. ‘What are you doing? Keeping poor Kit from his brandy?’
‘Not at all,’ Kit said. He sounded a trifle strained, but that must be the effect of having to remain polite in the face of her proposition, instead of laughing his head off. ‘Lady Chloe, would you excuse us? I need to ask James’s permission.’
‘Permission?’ But she was of age and knew her own mind perfectly well and this was only pretence, after all.
‘About the matter we were just discussing, my dear.’ My what? But the flat of his hand, lightly against her back, urged her towards the open door. ‘We can discuss it again after dinner.’
And then she was outside, staring at the unyielding oak panels. Faintly she heard James’s voice. ‘You want to do what?’
Chapter Four (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
‘I want to marry your sister Chloe,’ Kit repeated. He would never have thought of it, but now Chloe had suggested it, it seemed an ideal solution to his problem.
James sat down with a thump in the nearest chair. ‘Forgive me. But why?’
‘Because I hold her in high esteem, naturally. As you know, Antonia Woolmer apart, I was intending to find a bride this Season. Chloe has all the qualities I am looking for in a wife —’
‘And you just happened to be struck all of a heap by this revelation five minutes after telling me of your despair at being entrapped by the Woolmers?’ James did not sound pleased. Kit could hardly blame him. An earl for a brother-in-law was one thing, but no man wanted to think his sister was being used.
‘Actually, it was Lady Chloe’s suggestion,’ Kit offered. ‘I haven’t persuaded her, rather the other way round.’ Not very gallant, but this was James, after all. He’d understand.
Or not, apparently. ‘You are telling me she needed to persuade you that she was an eligible bride?’
‘No! Not at all.’ He must stop digging himself into this hole before the sides caved in. ‘Lady Chloe overheard our conversation. She proposed…suggested that we tell Woolmer of our engagement using her sister’s recent troubles as an excuse for not announcing it earlier. Naturally, I was reluctant to take advantage of her in any way.’ That could have been better put. The hole was getting deeper, along with James’s frown. ‘Take advantage of her generosity, that is. I think we would suit.’
And, surprisingly, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to him that they would suit. She was intelligent, well-bred, presentable. Well, she could be, if she stopped sticking pens in her hair… He’d been taken aback by the directness of her approach but he supposed she was tired of being the spinster sister. But he wouldn’t hold her to it, not if she got cold feet when she’d considered it at leisure.
‘I must talk with her.’ James shook his head. ‘I don’t understand this, she is rarely impulsive. Too much the scientist, I suppose. We had given up trying to persuade her to consider marriage.’
‘Did she hate the Season so much?’
James shrugged. ‘No-one took her seriously and then when she did find someone who was interested in geology they had a blazing row because he accused her of being irreligious and refusing to accept the approved date of the earth or something.’
‘Bishop Usher.’
‘No, he was a baronet.’
‘The bishop worked out the age of the earth from the Bible,’ Kit explained patiently. No wonder poor Chloe was anxious to leave home if her family knew less about geology than he did. ‘The baronet must have been a Neptunist—that theory explains everything in the earth in terms of Noah’s flood.’
‘Sounds as if you understand her better than he did, at any event.’ James perked up a little. ‘You both need to sleep on this, it is too important for a spur of the moment decision.’
‘Perhaps I should go back to the Clarendon,’ Kit suggested. The ceilings of his town house were being replastered after the water tank had burst the week before and James had invited him to stay upon hearing he was putting up in an hotel.
‘Does Woolmer know you’ve moved here? Best stay below the horizon until you and Chloe get this resolved, given that he’s out for your blood.’
True, but a night’s sleep away from this house might remove the sensation of careering downhill on an out-of-control sledge. A tap and the door opening prevented him agreeing. ‘A Mr Woolmer for Lord Twyford, my lord. He appears a trifle…agitated.’
‘Hell.’ James muttered. ‘Dunton, tell Mr Woolmer that his lordship is not in and we are not certain when he is returning.’
‘I regret, my lord, that Lady Chloe was crossing the hall when the gentleman arrived, told him Lord Twyford was here and took him into the drawing room. She requested the presence of you both.’
‘If she has told him she’s betrothed to you, then that’s final,’ James pronounced. ‘I don’t care whether you’re suited or not. I’m not having another sister’s marriage causing a scandal.’
Chapter Five (#uca8f345f-4cad-54db-95e7-c4b42114e775)
Kit realised that he was committed to marry Chloe, whether she liked it or not. Her suggestion had been impulsive and well-meant and his insistence on formally asking James’s permission had been intended to push her into considering more carefully. But now that Woolmer knew…
For himself, he could contemplate with equanimity marriage to an intelligent, kind young woman who was the sister of a good friend. He did not expect a love match and it seemed that neither did she. But he had wanted her to think about it first.
James opened the door into the drawing room onto muffled sobs and a deep, rather desperate, voice saying, ‘There, there, Lady Chloe, you mustn’t take on so.’
‘But I feel so guilty,’ Chloe wailed from the depths of a large handkerchief that must belong to Mr Woolmer. ‘I could tell you were upset. If he had been able to tell you earlier…I told Kit we could not announce our betrothal until poor Penelope recovered from her tragic disappointment.’
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