Page 7 of A Lady's Wager
Melinda threw her arms around Corah. “You are the very best of cousins. How shall I ever—”
“Please get back to the carriage,” Corah said more gruffly than she intended. “I wish to leave the moment I am finished.” She flexed her fingers. A few more minutes of singing. She could survive this.
“Come, Miss Lee.” The lieutenant offered her his arm, which the girl eagerly took. For a moment an unfamiliar sensation arose in Corah’s chest. They looked well together, Lieutenant Owens kindly smiling down and Melinda’s upturned face perfectly pink from the chill. Why did she not like the sight? Then he turned his gaze to Corah, brows lifted expectantly.
“Go, then.” She waved them toward the coach.
“I thought to stay for your encore, and then we may all walk back together.”
She ground her teeth, planting her fists on her hips. “If I have to do this twice, I shall not have an audience.” Well, not him as an audience.
“I will be sorely disappointed to miss it.” He cocked his head. “I get so few opportunities to hear voices as fine as yours.”
Shameless flattery. She wouldn’t give in. “I’ll call you out myself if you stay,” she said, wagging a finger at him.
His lips twitched as if he enjoyed the mental picture that painted, but he bowed his head in defeat and turned. Corah stayed in place until he and Melinda had made it a good distance across the park. She caught every time he covertly tried to glance over his shoulder. The scoundrel. Had Richard mentioned whata rascal he was? She supposed while aboard ship, he had less opportunity for jokes.
Satisfied they were a safe distance away, Corah regained her position on the fountain and filled her lungs to begin. “The farmer’s dog leapt o’er the stile…” But the lieutenant’s laughing eyes and the happiness they brought would not leave her mind. Nor would the fact that Melinda was enjoying several minutes alone with him. The longer she sang, the more she thought he might as well have stayed. Somehow she didn’t mind the thought of him listening as much as she insisted.
CORAH SAT NEAR THE FIREin the library,A Sicilian Romancesitting forgotten in her lap as her attention wandered. Nearly a week had passed since Lieutenant Owens deposited them in their carriage at Portland Square and sent them back to Kirkby Park. She’d tried to discover more about him as she accompanied her aunt on visits, but few of their friends and acquaintances knew much.
The flames crackled in the hearth, and she mindlessly thumbed the pages of her novel. She had hoped to meet him again, perhaps in town or at one of the homes they visited. No luck, though someone mentioned he was staying at the home of Mrs. Stewart, a widow who had been a dear friend of his late grandmother. That was all they could give her.
The door creaked open, and Grandfather entered. He wore his thick white hair in a queue with the sides curled in straight, horizontal lines. The image of classicism.
“Good morning, my dear.” He closed the door behind him. “How do you fare?”
Corah sat up, closing the book and tucking it between her and the couch. Grandfather didn’t approve of romance novels. “Quite well, thank you.” Though she would be better if she couldfind out more about Lieutenant Owens. Would Richard’s letters give her more? She would have to dig them out to see.
“I had something I wished to speak with you about.” He sat on the other side of the couch and folded his hands.
“Of course.” Aunt Mary didn’t know Mrs. Stewart as more than a passing acquaintance, but she might be persuaded to pay a visit. It seemed the old woman was the only one in Bristol who knew the history of Lieutenant Owens.
“It is about London.”
Corah froze. She’d awaited this conversation for weeks. “What about London?”
Grandfather didn’t look at her for a moment, as though trying to choose his words. “I think it is time.”
She didn’t have to ask what he meant by that. Her mouth went dry, and she tried to swallow. They’d go to London, find a husband among the hundreds of single gentlemen, and then she’d be banished from Bristol for always. She couldn’t find a reason not to like every one of them. If only she had found a good enough reason to like someone in Bristol.
“I hope to leave the first week of March. That will give us ample time to order you new clothes before Easter.”
Just more than a month away. The book dug into her side, rigid and unmoving compared to the softness of the couch around it.
“Unless by some miracle we can find you a match before then.” He sighed. “However, I think we both know there is no one in Bristol to suit your fancy.” He patted the couch in a steady rhythm, eyes still lowered in thought. “But you cannot spend your whole life playing about with your cousin. If Bristol will not do, we must try our luck in London.”
Corah nodded. How else could she respond? Grandfather was right. She had exhausted her possibilities here.
“I don’t blame you,” he said, a hint of regret in his voice. And was that sorrow hidden there in the wrinkles around his eyes? “I will not push you the way I did my daughters.” His voice broke and he covered it with clearing his throat. More than one of her five aunts had landed in unhappy situations. Though he didn’t say it, she knew that guilt was filling his mind. “I want you to at least like the man. Enjoy his company. Have hope for respect and amicable companionship. Perhaps even love.”
“Yes, Grandfather.” Her hands trembled. She blinked, then blinked again, willing tears not to fall from her burning eyes. London would not be as terrible as she feared. She had to believe that.
Grandfather took her hand and gave it a squeeze. He rarely did that. He preferred to show his affection through praise, which he would give in very serious tones. So serious it sometimes worried Melinda. “We tried our best, my dear. When the usual venues do not produce the desired results, one must look elsewhere. You still have time, but we cannot wait until time is out to pursue our prize.”
“I think it a good plan.” How she wished she meant it.
Grandfather nodded, face still troubled. He knew she was trying to be brave. “I will leave you to your reading, then.” He rose and adjusted his coat. “Do spend a moment or two in something more intellectual, if you have the time.”
