To Tempt an Earl (25 page)

"But—"

"I know you think he's already won both,
dear. But let me give you some wise advice from an old lady."

"Old?" Bethanny asked with a smirk.

"If you ever disclose that I called myself
thus, I shall smite thee!" Lady Southridge stood and struck a
dramatic pose.

"Understood," Bethanny answered through her
laugh.

"Now then, listen closely, my dear. These are
pearls of wisdom you must keep. String them together and wear them
around your neck, close to your heart." Lady Southridge touched the
neckline of her gown to emphasize her point as she took her seat.
"There is something to be said about courtship. Is there anything
more romantic, anything closer to your heart than to remember your
lover's actions as he pursued you relentlessly?" She paused. "As
women, we need to be wanted, loved, cherished. The process of
courtship is a beautiful opportunity for a gentleman to display his
affection, his loyalty to you. When you're my age, you'll be
grateful that you took this opportunity to let my brother pursue
you properly, adding to the wonderful memories you're sure to
create in your future. Let this be a wonderful beginning, where you
are able to see his heart, and in that, carry that precious view
into your future together. Let him chase you, my dear, for as much
as we women love to be pursued…" she leaned forward, spearing
Bethanny with a direct gaze, "men love to take part in the
chase."

Bethanny grinned, warmed by the idea of
memories that would keep her company when she got older. Truly was
there anything more endearing than to recollect those past stolen
moments with Lord Graham? Nothing was dearer to her heart. How much
more would the upcoming memories be when combined with an honest
pursuit of her affections without the hindrance of her guardian's
lack of approval?

Provided the duke
gave
his
approval.

"Er, Lady Southridge, the duke
was
intending on giving his approval to Graham to press his suit, was
he not? I believe it was implied earlier, but I didn't ask the
direct question—"

"Dear, if he wasn't welcome, he wouldn't have
made it to the front step." She nodded decisively.

Bethanny took in a relieved breath. "Then I
shall simply… wait."

"You're not simply waiting, dear." Lady
Southridge stood and walked to the door. "You're setting the stage.
After all, each epic romance has its hurdle, does it not? You're
simply making the obstacle clearer for him to see and
dismantle."

"What obstacle?" Bethanny asked, curious,
since the only obstacle she'd considered was the duke's
approval.

"Fear, my love. Fear."

"Of me?"

"No, fear of failure, fear unworthiness, lack
of faith." Lady Southridge's tone was soft.

"I'm well-versed in fear, it seems. I've
lived in its shadow for some time. Strange that I didn't even
realize it at first," Bethanny confessed.

"That is why it's so dangerous. But have no
fear, for if there is one weapon against fear that is always sure
to emerge the victor… it is love." Lady Southridge offered Bethanny
a warm smile and slipped out the door.

Love indeed.

Graham strode purposefully to the library,
cursing under his breath. Damn the man! When he had asked where he
might find Bethanny, the duke simply grinned.

Grinned!

As if Graham's entire future didn't depend on
the woman's forthcoming decision. He could have strangled the man
had he not been utterly grateful that the duke was not trying to
strangle
him
for his affection toward Bethanny.

Affection?
If what he
felt
was
affection, then the English Channel was a small pond. No this was
love, pure and menacing, that was slowly driving him mad.

Because love unrequited, or on the verge of
being unrequited, was worse than any torture Napoleon could
invent.

So he found himself searching high and low,
the gardens and grounds, the parlors and dining rooms, the sitting
rooms and finally now the library. He
almost
thought the
duke was
hiding
the girl! But why?

Unless…

Was she out with Lord Neville? He hadn't seen
the man since arriving.

But he hadn't seen Bethanny either.

The whole party
was
set up to promote
a courtship. Could he be too late? Was Neville proposing right now?
A cold chill of fear caused perspiration to dampen the nape of his
neck.
No!
He couldn't allow it!

Lost in his own fears, he opened the door the
library with far too much force, and the heavy wooden door swung
open only to hit the wall behind it, creating a loud thud.

"My heavens!" Beatrix stood, clasping her
heart. Her eyes were wide as she glanced from the door to Lord
Graham.

Graham felt his face heat with humility as he
cleared his throat. "A thousand apologies, Miss Lamont." He
adjusted his coat nervously. As he did he noticed another person in
the room.

Neville.

He narrowed his eyes at the gentleman. Rather
than hold the gaze, Lord Neville glanced away then slid his gaze to
Beatrix, then back to Lord Graham as he cleared his throat.

"I thank you, Miss Lamont for your…
assistance. Good day." He bowed smartly and left.

Graham had the intense urge to trip the man
as he walked by; rather, he simply glared at him.

However, Neville simply murmured a soft,
"Pardon," as he slipped by.

Hardly the response Graham was expecting.

Especially from a rival.

Confused, Lord Graham turned back to Beatrix.
She was tucking a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear, her
cheeks blooming with color. Upon closer examination, Graham noticed
her hair was slightly disheveled, and her lips rather… pink.

As if they'd been assaulted by a man's
kiss.

But the only man in the room was…

Neville!

Could it be? Were his affections changing to
the younger sister? It would be a scandal for sure! And what of
Bethanny! Immediately, righteous anger swelled within Graham,
ironically, on behalf of Bethanny. She didn't deserve such
treatment!

"I… am trying not to assume—" he began.

"No, no, my lord. It…" she took a deep breath
and strode forward, "it isn't as you think. Truly," she pleaded,
her brown eyes so like Bethanny's it made his heart ache.

"I'll not press you, Miss Lamont, but I must
urge you to use caution—"

"As I said, you are mistaken, it — I wasn't —
he…"

"Stuttering is never a good sign, Miss
Lamont," Graham teased softly, hoping to relieve some of the
tension radiating from her.

"Indeed. It is not. Have…" she delicately
cleared her throat, "have you seen my older sister?"

The minx surely knew how to steer the
attention away from herself!

"In fact, no, I have not," he answered, his
tone wary as he studied the innocent expression in her eyes.

"Ah." She nodded.

Graham waited.

She shrugged her shoulders and made an effort
to pass him.

He stepped in front of her. "Miss Lamont, I
get the feeling you know something that I do not."

"Indeed. I would think that I know a few
things that you do not, my lord," she challenged back and took a
step to the side, quickly passing him.

"Miss Lamont, may I remind you that I just
caught you in what could easily be deemed a compromising
situation—"

"There's not need to be threatening," Beatrix
ground out as she turned to glare at him.

"Where is your sister?"

"Here."

"In the library?" Graham turned to glance
about the room.

"No,
here
at the manor. I'm sure
you'll run into her at supper." The girl gave him an arch grin and
all but fled.

"Bloody hell," Graham swore softly. Well, if
there was one good thing that came out of his searching, at least
he knew that wherever Bethanny was, she wasn't keeping company with
Lord Neville.

Rather, the younger sister was.

Interesting.

Bethanny tossed her
book on the side table as soon as she heard someone twist the knob
of her door. It was torture, waiting, not knowing, and yet
knowing
that he was there.

It was going to drive her mad.

"Bethanny?" Beatrix called softly as she
entered the room and closed the door softly behind her. Her brown
eyes were twinkling as she bit her lower lip and hurried into room
with a whisper of her skirt.

"Yes? Please, in the name of all that is
merciful, tell me you have
some
sort of news. I'm dying up
here waiting!" Bethanny spoke earnestly, her desperation
evident.

"I saw him." Beatrix's grin widened. "And he
was asking about you. He was most insistent! In fact he tried to
block my escape, so desperate was he to find out your
whereabouts!"

"Truly?" Bethanny asked, her lips spreading
into a wide grin.

"Indeed." Beatrix's eyes danced with
delight.

"So… what is he doing now? And where did you
see him?" Bethanny asked as she bit her lower lip.

"Uh…" Beatrix began then shifted
uneasily.

Bethanny felt her brow furrow as she studied
the sudden bloom of color that highlighted Beatrix's face, along
with the downward glance of her gaze.

"I saw him in the library," she replied, then
cleared her throat delicately and strode to the window.

"And? Please, tell me everything!" Bethanny
asked.

"And he cornered me and tried to find out
where you were. That is simply all." Beatrix shrugged, but she
wouldn't make eye contact.

Odd.

"Very well. What did
you
say then?"
Bethanny tried a different approach.

"Ah, well." Beatrix turned to face her then,
her eyebrow arching with mischief. "I simply told him that you were
here, at the manor. He didn't appreciate my information."

"Ha! I should think not! But it was very
clever of you. What did he say then?"

"He wanted to know
where
at the manor,
and I simply said that he'd surely see you at supper. Then I fled
before he could question me further!"

Bethanny took a deep breath of delight.
"Evening cannot come soon enough. I'm quite certain that today has
been the slowest day I've ever endured!"

"Lord Graham surely shares that sentiment!"
Beatrix teased.

"Serves him right."

"Indeed it does."

Bethanny glanced to the window and was lost
in her own thoughts when she heard her sister's soft question.

"Bethanny… how… that is… you've always been
so sure about Lord Graham. There was never another. How did you
know that your heart belonged with his? Was there something that
happened that offered that insight? Was it simply a feeling?"
Beatrix asked tentatively, her hands smoothing her light blue
skirt.

Bethanny regarded her sister. "I'm not
certain. But I do know that from the first time we met, though I
was still quite young, I knew that I wanted him to see me as more
than a silly little girl. When I had that opportunity, I took it
and ran." Bethanny giggled softly, remembering her flirtation with
Lord Graham before he was certain of her identity.

"Oh," Beatrix said, her brow slightly
furrowed as if frustrated.

"Why do you ask?" Bethanny placed a soft hand
on her sister's shoulder.

"I—"

"Bethanny?" Carlotta's voice came through the
door as she softly knocked.

Bethanny offered an apologetic smile to her
sister. "Yes," she answered Carlotta.

Carlotta opened the door and entered,
followed by Berty. "Ah, good. You are indeed here, Beatrix. I have
news, and I wish to tell you all at once." Carlotta's face glowed
with joy.

Beatrix and Bethanny shared a glance.

"Indeed? What do you wish to tell us?"
Beatrix asked.

"Yes, what's the big secret? She wouldn't
tell me till we found the two of you!" Berty placed her hands on
her hips.

"Well…" Carlotta gestured to the settee and
chairs by the fire, burning low in the grate and then waited for
Bethanny and her sisters to sit.

"Now, I have some news to tell you, and I
wanted you to hear it from me rather than the gossips of the
ton
."

"Yes?" Bethanny asked, her suspicions
growing.

Carlotta took a deep breath and placed a
delicate hand to her abdomen. "You are going to be aunts."

It took a moment for the news to register
with Bethanny. With a delighted clap, she stood and moved to
embrace her beloved guardian. "Truly? How wonderful! When can we
expect to have a little one to spoil? Because you should know now
that we intend to do just that!"

Carlotta hugged her back tightly, the scent
of lavender gently floating from her skin and offering the comfort
of memories to Bethanny. Soon Beatrix and Berty were squealing and
offering congratulations as well.