Page 5 of Courting the Earl
“I mean no offense, my lord. It is just that I am only twenty-nine years of age. I hadn’t expected to wed for several years yet.”
Finally Appleby shook his head. “But the betrothal—”
“Can be nullified with the agreement of both parties.”
The viscount’s mouth drew into a straight line and he looked away. Seconds ticked by, the silence growing uncomfortable. Finally he stood. Geoffrey did the same.
Appleby’s hands were clenched. “No.”
“As you’ve said, your daughter is a delightful young woman. There are many who will seek her out. She will have her pick from any suitor she desires.”
Appleby continued as though Geoffrey hadn’t spoken at all. “The betrothal stands. I suggest you spend some time over the next few months getting to know your future wife.”
“And if she doesn’t wish to marry me?”
Appleby shook his head. “Your father and I came to an agreement. Arrangements have already been made.”
“But—”
“Enough. It is too early to discuss these things. I expect you to uphold your part of the contract.”
Geoffrey warred with himself, wanting to press the issue, but in the end decided now was not the time. He’d raised the possibility of breaking the betrothal. To continue right now would only cause insult, and then he might never find his way out of this marriage.
“I apologize for my bluntness. I meant no offense. I only learned of the betrothal recently.”
Lord Appleby grimaced. “And you were taken aback. I understand. But once you get to know Lydia, you’ll see that your father couldn’t have found a better match for you.”
Geoffrey said nothing further on the subject as he took his leave. He kept his gaze forward as he passed the drawing room, pretending that he didn’t feel the women’s eyes on him as he moved past the doorway.
Unease settled over him as he climbed into his carriage. He could just imagine Lady Appleby rushing into her husband’s study to demand details about their discussion. He couldn’t help but wonder if the viscount would share the reason for his visit that morning since it was clear the man was intent on maintaining the betrothal.
Still, Geoffrey had learned something important from their meeting. Lord Appleby seemed to care for his daughter a great deal. But Geoffrey knew firsthand that appearances could be deceiving. How many times had his own father behaved as though he doted on Geoffrey and his sister Abigail over the years while in the presence of others? But his primary care was for his own ambitions.
Father had forced Abigail into an unhappy marriage with an older man years ago. And now he’d arranged for Geoffrey’s marriage with the same lack of concern for his son’s preferences.
Geoffrey tried to ignore the niggle of guilt he felt when he thought about his sister’s arranged marriage. Abigail had suffered with her own situation, married to a man old enough to be her grandfather. He couldn’t imagine the horror that had awaited her in the marriage bed. At least her husband had finally had the good grace to pass away and Abigail was now happily married to another.
Lydia, on the other hand, was young and beautiful. And he was aware that his own forced union wasn’t a bad one. Not really. But damnation, the very last thing he wanted was to fall in line with his father’s plans.
He’d give the young woman a chance, but he doubted she’d tempt him into changing his mind. She was too delicate for his taste. When he did wed several years from now, it wouldn’t be to a woman he’d feel had to be handled carefully lest she break.
He was finally free from his father’s control, and he planned to enjoy himself for the next few years before turning his attention to the matter of securing an heir. He just had to ensure Lydia found him unsuitable and was able to convince her father to break the betrothal contract.
Chapter 3
They waited three more days before attending their first social event of the season. The Clarington ball. Lydia had been impatient, and if she were being honest, Eleanor was as well.
It wasn’t the first invitation they’d received, but it was the first ball. The Duke and Duchess of Clarington’s ball had recently become known as the start of the social season. Aunt Helen had insisted the ball would provide the perfect backdrop to launch Lydia into society.
Eleanor had to admit, her cousin looked particularly beautiful that evening. Lydia’s dress was of the palest blue, the décolletage and hem trimmed with lace. Small blue and white beads threaded through the trim, winking under the candlelight and drawing the eye to her neckline. The dress was modest of course, as was befitting a proper young lady just making her debut in society, but the effect was unmistakable.
Eleanor found her own eyes drawn to the twinkling trim. She had no doubt every man in the room would be staring not at her cousin’s eyes but at her bosom.
But if they managed to draw their gazes upward, they wouldn’t be let down by Lydia’s beauty. Her blond hair was swept up and a riot of curls that framed her face. Large blue eyes, a small nose, and a mouth that formed a perfect little bow.
They were standing arm in arm, just behind Aunt Helen and Uncle as they waited right outside the ballroom to be announced. The loud murmur of voices drifted out to greet them, and Eleanor found her anticipation growing with each second that passed.
Eleanor leaned down to speak in Lydia’s ear. “Are you nervous?”
