One side of his lips curled upward with an almost dastardly sense of amusement. There had to be a little devil inside him, for rather than do as he ought and follow along with his guest’s expectations, he reached up, grabbed her fingers at a somewhat awkward angle, and shook them.
“You must be Lady Seraphina,” he said.
“I, um…” He could tell she was struggling to hide her outrage. “Yes.” She smiled tightly. Her chaperone, who’d appeared at her side roughly ten seconds earlier, stared at him in wonder. Clearly, no one had ever thwarted this spoiled woman’s will before.
Well, there was a first time for everything, Randolph decided. He dropped her hand unceremoniously and looked past her shoulder, immediately spotting the two last remaining young ladies whom he’d invited. Lady Angelica and Miss Harlow had apparently seen enough of what had transpired between him and Lady Seraphina, for their hands were clapped over their mouths as if to hold back an onslaught of laughter. Or perhaps to stop themselves from verbally assaulting him for his rudeness. It could be either, judging from their expressions.
He considered them. One blonde, one brunette, both slim and neither particularly pretty. At least not in the classical sense. He had no idea which was which. Perhaps it was time to find out? Ignoring Lady Seraphina’s sputtering attempt to maintain a proper demeanor, he ambled over to where Lady Angelica and Miss Harlow stood with their mothers directly behind them.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. “I am your host, Viscount Sterling.”
“Delighted,” one of the mothers said. “I am the dowager Lady Bloomfield and this is my daughter, Lady Angelica.”
Lady Angelica, who’d dropped her hand to reveal a wide mouth with much fuller lips than he would have expected, watched him with sparkling eyes. To his surprise, his heart leapt a little when she smiled. Perhaps because the expression was genuine, completely devoid of pretense, and entirely focused on him – like they were co-conspirators with a shared secret. It was the oddest thing.
“A pleasure,” he murmured, while holding her gaze. She might not be able to compete with Mrs. Essex where looks were concerned, but there was something about her, something he liked so much better than what most would describe as perfect beauty.
“And I am Mrs. Harlow,” the other mother was saying. Randolph tore his gaze away from Lady Angelica so he could greet Miss Harlow as well.
“I trust your journeys to my corner of the world went well?” he inquired once the introductions had been completed and Lady Bloomfield and Mrs. Harlow had removed themselves to another part of the room.
“We did arrive unscathed,” Lady Angelica said. “As you can see.”
“Indeed.”
“In spite of the rain,” Miss Harlow added in a much softer voice than Lady Angelica used. Clearly, she was the more timid one of the two.
“Yes. I must confess that I did suggest we turn around more than once,” Lady Angelica said without looking the least bit repentant. “Carriage rides are dull enough on pleasant days, but with nothing to look at for hours on end they’re positively unbearable.”
“It’s one of the reasons I prefer travelling on horseback,” Randolph said, the comment popping out of his mouth completely unbidden.
“If only I were able to do so,” Lady Angelica said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, we ladies are only permitted to ride for sport. Mama would have a fit if I ever suggested going on a lengthy journey in such a way.”
“An excellent reason for you to marry, my lady, since the right husband would not choose to hinder you thus.” Where the devil were these words coming from? And when had he acquired such a flirtatious tone?
Lady Angelica tilted her head as if giving his comment serious consideration. “Do you think?” She glanced at Miss Harlow before returning her gaze to his. “In my experience, husbands tend to be more controlling than one’s parents, not less.”
“Then your experience must be limited to only intolerant men, for which I must extend apologies on behalf of my entire sex.”
“Am I to understand that you would allow your wife to travel by horseback from, let us say, here to London?” An intensity burned in Lady Angelica’s eyes, which he noted were not entirely brown but almost golden. She was testing him, he realized, judging his character and deciding whether she might consider him as a possible match.
Nothing thrilled him more.
“If it is her wish to do so and she has proven herself a capable horsewoman, then yes, I would, as long as she does not choose to ride alone.”
Lady Angelica’s mouth twitched slightly, as if deciding whether or not to smile. Randolph found himself holding his breath as he waited for her to give her opinion. Miss Harlow remained silent, which seemed to be her preferred state of being, so unless she showed a sudden interest in archaeology, his hobby of choice, he would have to dismiss her as a candidate.
But Lady Angelica…
“To do so would be remarkably foolish, my lord.” And then, before he could fully appreciate what she’d said – the fact that she’d chosen to agree with him on a subject that seemed immensely important for some strange reason – she said, “By the way, I must commend you for handling Lady Seraphina as well as you did. A more polite man would have followed protocol.”
“I—”
The supper bell rang and the doors to the dining room opened. Lady Angelica gave him a wry smile in parting as she went to find her mother, which was when Randolph noticed the ribbon trailing behind her. He shook his head in wonderment. Lady Angelica was unlike any woman he’d ever met before. She baffled him with her lack of finesse and the almost magnetic response he’d felt for her during their brief conversation. And what had she meant by her comment? That she considered him to be ill-mannered? It felt like she’d offered a compliment, but he rather feared she might not have.
Confused and oddly eager to spend more time in her company, Randolph entered the dining room with every hope that she’d been placed next to him. Instead, he found himself seated with Lady Seraphina and Miss St. James on either side and with Lady Angelica so far away at the opposite end of the table, she might as well have been sitting in China.
Randolph swallowed a groan and attempted a smile while he waited for all the ladies to be seated. Fleetingly, from behind a floral centerpiece, he caught Lady Angelica’s eye. Humor danced there – laughter at his expense – but rather than feel offended or angered, his chest expanded with a warmth he’d not felt in years. Not since those long ago days before the world he knew had been torn apart at the seams.
Dulled by the memories, he struggled to return to the mood he’d been in only one second earlier. It turned out to be an impossible undertaking with Lady Seraphina listing all her exceptional qualities and Miss St. James looking like she’d rather be dead than forced to endure the company of others. But at least there was wine. Randolph managed a toast as a more formal way of welcoming everyone to his home, during which he deliberately avoided looking at Lady Angelica. He wasn’t sure why, other than that it felt wrong to indulge in her sprightly charisma when his current frame of mind would only offer darkness in return.
Chapter 2