Page 55 of Foolish Bride
Michael jumped up and blocked her exit. “Elinor, I am an idiot. I have obviously led you to believe that I was not pleased with our encounter in the orangery, when just the opposite is the case. I only wanted to assure you that your feelings and wants are my main concern.”
Eyes a mixture of anger and mirth, she looked up at him. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Oh, Michael, you are correct about only one thing today. You are an idiot.”
She left the parlor, then the house.
A few minutes later, Tabitha found him sitting alone in the parlor looking confused. “Where is Lady Elinor?”
He looked up, trying to give an air of disinterest. “She had to leave. She regretted not bidding you goodbye.”
Tabitha threw up her arms. “What did you say, Michael? Here I gave you the perfect opportunity to make amends with the one woman who can make you happy, and you chased her off.”
“I tried to apologize.”
“It obviously didn’t go very well if she left.” Tabitha paced the gray and blue Persian rug. “What did she say?”
He sighed. “She said that I was an idiot.”
“Yes, well of course you are. Now we shall have to find another opportunity. And quickly, before Middleton makes an offer.”
Damn, why was he always chasing after Middleton? He’d made a complete mess of his life. “What have you heard? Will he offer?”
Stopping her trudge, she turned to Michael. “I had heard that he had already made one, but the young lady informed me today that such an offer is not yet on the table. You still have time. Perhaps you will do better at the Marlton house party.”
“I had a thought about skipping Marltons’ this year. Give Lady Elinor a break from all the gossip.” Perhaps get some rest and hope his remaining maladies sorted themselves out as well.
She put her fists on her hips and stared him down. “You will do no such thing. I forbid it. I have it on good authority that Middleton is invited to the country. If you are not there to remind Elinor with whom she is in love, then he will surely propose and be accepted. He would be a fool not to, and Middleton is no fool.”
“No, he is not,” Michael confirmed. “Perhaps she would be better off with Preston. He’s a good man. He has not hurt her in the ways that I have. He would be a good husband to Elinor.”
“Oh, Michael.” She touched his cheek. “You really are an idiot.”
Chapter 13
The front door opened before Elinor reached the top step. That never boded well. It meant the butler had been waiting on her. She sighed, stripped off her gloves, and handed them to Kendall.
“Lady Elinor, his grace, The Duke of Middleton awaits you in the blue parlor,” Kendall said with a bow.
Elinor slumped, and all the air rushed out of her lungs. “Thank you, Kendall. Is my mother with his grace now?”
Kendall shook his head, causing his heavy jowls to bobble. “Her ladyship is not at home. She is expected shortly.”
“I see. I shall go immediately.” Her desire to rush to her room and make a new list of Michael’s flaws would have to wait.
She checked her hair in the hallway mirror. Spring had given way to summer in London, and the ride home had left her patting perspiration from her cheeks. Squaring her shoulders, she entered the blue parlor. “Good afternoon, your grace.”
Preston Knowles stood across the room looking out into the garden. He was impeccably dressed in a dark blue morning coat and fawn trousers.
He turned, smiled warmly, and straightened his broad shoulders. “Good day to you, my lady. I have a very important question to ask you.”
Elinor’s heart leapt in her throat. Instinct told her to run, but there was no way to manage such a maneuver without being cuttingly rude. With her back plastered to the door and her hand on the doorknob, she forced a polite smile. “Oh? What question is that, your grace?”
With the sun shining in through the window highlighting his impressive form, he was breathtaking. “Why is this called the blue parlor? I have discovered only one blue chair. Everything else in the room is brown or yellow.”
The air rushed back into Elinor’s lungs. Her relief at not being proposed to eased every muscle. “My mother does not enjoy change, your grace.”
He watched her and tipped his head to one side. “I am not sure I understand.”
Releasing the door and her breath, she forced herself further into the room and sat on the large brown couch. “Of course you cannot understand. I do not understand, either. However, when my mother is asked that particular question, her response is always that she does not care for change.”
