Page 13 of The Misfortunate Miss Farthington
“Lord Yardley hasn’t sent a response yet, unfortunately,” their hostess continued, a question implicit in her tone as she addressed Mrs. Lorimer.
“I’m sure he’s just fallen behind on his correspondence,” Mrs. Lorimer murmured politely.
“Yes, yes, that must be it. We did get the invitations out late, did we not?” she asked no one in particular. “But my niece was kind enough to ensure they were delivered.” She sent an indulgent smile in Lady Daphne’s direction and the younger lady smiled sweetly in turn.
“It was my pleasure, Aunt,” she said. “I am of course very eager for my first true ball.”
From what he’d come to know of Lady Daphne, her tone seemed far too docile, but then again, he did not know the woman well. But her comment managed to shift the topic at his end of the table to Daphne’s debut this season.
Richard’s thoughts, however, remained fixed on this earl who Miss Farthington’s parents wished for her to make a match.
He frowned down at his meal. Perhaps he should ask Luke to look into him.
Was he wasting his time trying to get close to her? Was his presence here just a mark of Miss Farthington’s kindness…or her cousin’s enthusiasm for his profession?
His relief at discovering Miss Farthington was not pining over her former fiancé had been rapidly replaced by a new fear that Miss Farthington wished to be courted by an earl.
He found another moment alone with Miss Farthington as they listened to Daphne play the pianoforte and took his chance. “The Earl of Yardley…” He started and stopped, uncertain of how to continue.
“Yes,” she murmured back, casting a glance up at him from beneath her lashes. “I’ve heard the name often of late.”
“And are you…are you acquainted with him?”
“No. Are you?”
“No.” He grit his teeth. Blast. That hadn’t answered anything.
“Mr. Grant, forgive me for asking, but…” She looked up to meet his gaze head on. “Are you jealous?”
His insides jolted at the blunt question, but his heart warmed at the gentle laughter in her eyes. “Should I be?”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with such delight it made him dizzy. “Are we playing the question game again?”
He turned to face her, forgetting for a moment that her family and friends were mere steps away. “Miss Farthington—”
“Tessa,” she whispered, her eyes so soft and tender, he felt he might drown if he didn’t look away.
“Tessa,” he repeated softly. “Do I have reason to be jealous?”
Her lips twitched. “That depends.”
His heart clenched at the sweet twinkle of amusement in her dark eyes. “On what?”
She leaned in slightly and dropped her voice to a whisper. “On whether you mean to act on it.”
5
Tessa fretted the whole way to the park.
“Are you cold, dear?” Marian asked. “Darling, give Tessa your coat.”
“Oh, my apologies,” Anthony said quickly, chagrin written across his features as he shifted awkwardly to remove his overcoat and hand it across the carriage, presumably.
“No, no,” Tessa said quickly. “I’m not overly cold.”
This was met by an unconvinced frown of concern by the happily married couple that had Tessa smothering a grin. Anthony had always been solicitous to her as they’d courted. Thoughcourtedseemed a bit strong a word for the sort of friendship they’d shared. There had been no romance between them. And nowhere near the sort of love Tessa could see now between Anthony and his bride.
It was the simple things. The way he looked at Marian when she didn’t even notice. The way he hovered over her, his body always angled in her direction as if she were the sun around which he orbited.
