Page 16 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke
It was physical attraction, of course, she told herself.Young ladies were supposed to know nothing about that, although,really, married women must have very short memories of their own youth if they thought that their daughters knew nothing, and felt nothing.
Thea assumed the dutiful, rather earnest expression that she used when Mama was fussing about something.‘I hope I am not so lacking in my understanding of what is expected of me as to fall in love with anyone, least of all a commoner,’ she pronounced, a statement that would have completely satisfied Mama.
Lady Holme looked less convinced.‘I do hope so, dear.So much better to settle for asuitablematch, one that ensures you live your life in just the way you have come to expect.’
Put like that, a suitable match sounded like a recipe for tedium, Thea thought, suddenly feeling mutinous.What would be wrong with an incredibly wealthy East India merchant, other than a life of luxury and the possibility of exotic travels?Or one of the new breed of industrialists—men who, as Papa had said in tones of disgust, had to buy their land rather than inherit it.It might be fascinating to learn all about steam engines, or cotton mills or coal mines, and to build a house from the ground up with all the modern conveniences.
Not that Hal Forrest was either kind of man.He was simply what she was used to, only with no title, less land and less money.
And less fuss, and less pomposity and more freedoms, an insinuating little voice suggested in her head.
Stop it.He isn’t interested in me anyway.
He likes you, and there was that touch…
She realised that they had been sitting in silence for several minutes.‘Yes, well, thank you for your concern, Godmama, but there is really nothing to worry about.I know Ihave behaved in a most unconventional manner, but I have no intention of making a habit of it, believe me.’
‘Of course not.You were always such a good, biddable girl.’
Now, why did that sound like a reproof and not a compliment?And she really did wish that the notion of falling in love had not been put into her head.
Thea was saved from answering by the butler’s entrance.
‘Do you wish for tea to be served here, or in the drawing room, my lady?’
‘Here, please, Fenwick.And let Mr Forrest know where we are, would you?’
‘My lady.’
Did she imagine that faintly pained expression crossing Fenwick’s face?Surely she must have done.He was a very superior butler indeed, and she had once seen him deal with an escaped monkey, a hysterical housemaid—bitten by the monkey—and a visiting dowager duchess—the owner of the monkey—without so much as a faint frown appearing on his smooth brow.
It must be her imagination: she really was in a very strange mood today.Probably it was the suspense of wondering how Mama and Papa would react to her escape.
Hal appeared a few minutes later, changed from his breeches and riding boots into the pantaloons and Hessians fitting for a lady’s drawing room.
‘Now, that,’ he remarked as he sat down, ‘is not a gown suitable for Harrogate, is it, Thea?’
‘No, it is one of Godmama’s.The maids have worked miracles altering things for me so quickly.’
‘It suits you admirably.The gold in the braid trim brings out the highlights in your hair.’
He said it almost matter-of-factly, but, to her horror,Thea felt herself blushing, as though he had paid her some lavish and rather over-warm compliment.
Sheneverblushed at compliments.Why would one?They were always false.
‘Goodness, it is quite warm in here, don’t you think?’she asked, fanning herself with one hand and then stopping abruptly when she realised she was just drawing attention to her cheeks.
A quick glance in the over-mantel mirror reassured her that they were not crimson as she feared, but even so, they were decidedly pink.
Fortunately, neither of the others appeared to notice anything strange and the footmen arriving with the tea tray and a stand of little savouries and cakes was a welcome distraction.
‘Shall I pour, Godmama?’she asked, grateful for something to occupy her.
That worked very well until Hal stood up to collect his own and Lady Holme’s cups and then settled back into his armchair.
Really, those knitted pantaloons were exceedingly tight and, when Hal crossed his legs as he had just done, the movement of his thigh muscles was quite apparent.
Ladies—young, unmarried ladies—did not look at men’s legs.They were expected to keep their eyes either cast modestly downwards or to look a gentleman in the eye, not look at him drinking tea and think,Horseman’s thighs.
