Page 14 of Why Do Earls Fall in Love?
Her mouth twisted and she waited.
“Very well! I may also have been known for hiding a favorite ribbon or sticking burrs in bonnets.”
“Remind me to keep you away from my brother, sir,” she said with a grin.
“And so I will,” he said easily. “Now, enough of my sins. Shall we go and find some champagne?”
She looked around at the beautiful expanse of Lady Tremaine’s riverside lawns, and at all the people gathered upon them. “I’d far rather have some of the lemonade,” she confessed. “It’s warm in the sun.”
Mr. Rostham offered his arm, and she took it as several young people decided to follow them from the bowling green. Their chatter rang out, happy and carefree, and she let it wash over her with a sigh of gratitude.
What a difference from the first few weeks of the Season. Then, she had been acquainted with only a couple of gentlemen and a few of the young ladies. Now it seemed her name was on everyone’s lips—and mentioned with pleasure and approval, as far as she could tell. She’d met scores of people in the last week. Their parlor had been awash in flowers and filled with callers. Last night at the Loverton ball, she’d danced every set.
It was all due to Lord Whiddon. That dance had been a mission of rescue and it had nicely done the trick. Her fall had become infamous, but all sympathy lay with her. As for Harriett—for the first time in her life she was feeling the consequences of her casual cruelty. Some were kind enough to ignore the talk, but others gazed at her with disapproval or pity.
Charlotte tried to speak with her cousin but had been rebuffed. She decided not to worry over Harriett and to enjoy her new acclaim. She doubted it would last. Something else would come along to occupy theton, but she hoped she would have found some lasting friends by then—and perhaps a viable suitor or two.
Mr. Rostham might be one of them. Young, carefree and the heir to a viscount, she had the feeling that he’d strayed into her orbit only because of her new notoriety. But she’d surprised him a time or two, and he’d seemed to enjoy it. He’d been flatteringly attentive over the last few days. But hewasyoung. She wondered if he was just enjoying himself, or if he was truly ready to choose a bride.
It was a worry that she could tie to all of the newly enthusiastic gentlemen about her, but if she was going to be honest with herself, she had to admit that the greatest flaw in each of them was that they were not Lord Whiddon.
She flushed, just thinking such a thing. Thankfully, she could attribute her high color to the heat of the day. But it was true.
Whiddon was reclusive and curmudgeonly, but he also smoldered with an intensity that called the hairs on her nape to stand on end and set her every nerve to tingling. He was frank in a way that appealed to her and showed nary a blink when she responded in the same way. He was handsome, gruff and completely tantalizing.
And utterly unavailable.
She knew that. She did. He could not enter into her plan to marry well and save her family’s future. She accepted the fact, but it did not stop her from watching for him in the street, in the park, or wondering, when the bell rang, if he would be the next caller admitted.
He never was, of course. She didn’t truly expect him, and she hadn’t spotted him even once since he danced with her—and saved her.
“Oh, look there.” Mr. Rostham gestured. “Lady Tremaine is bringing out the ices.”
A line of maids and footmen were carrying out trays of sparkling dishes and placing them beneath one of the beribboned tents.
“Shall I fetch us one?” Mr. Rostham asked.
“That would be just the thing. Thank you.”
“Any flavor preference? If there is a choice?”
“I am partial to strawberry,” she admitted.
“Noted.” The look he gave her appeared more serious than his usual countenance. He gave her hand a squeeze, then left her.
She stepped into the shade of a tree and let her gaze drift across the party. She’d never imagined such an elegant outdoor event. The lawns were wide and sloped gently down to the river. Potted topiaries fluttered with ribbons matching the tents. They had been placed strategically, showcasing seating areas, a small platform for the musicians, and the bowling green. Down by the water they flanked the wide pier and the spot on the bank where small boats were launching onto the water. She hadn’t yet been out in one and wondered if Mr. Rostham would suggest it.
“Miss Mayne!”
She glanced behind her. “Mrs. Sterne. How lovely to see you.”
The lady drew abreast and looked around. “What a perfect day the countess has for her party. It all looks so beautiful.”
“Indeed. She’s thought of everything, it seems.”
“I heard it will only improve this evening. Lady Tremaine has apparently hired men from Vauxhall to light up the evening, as they do in the gardens. She’s planning fireworks, as well.”
They spoke for a while about the workings of such an undertaking. Mrs. Sterne was scientifically minded and always so interesting. Charlotte was grateful for her friendship and Lady Chester’s as well. They were both kind and nearly as new to London Society as she was. They were also both married to two of Lord Whiddon’s closest friends. Perhaps one or both of them might know where the earl had got to.
