“The rain has ceased and if the weather stays dry we shall go for a walk tomorrow. If it’s not too cold, we can even enjoy a picnic. Then on Wednesday, we shall go to the village. There’s a lovely little teashop and a haberdashery where you may find ribbons and lace to your hearts’ content. Friday is set aside for games, including a treasure hunt Mrs. Essex has promised she’ll arrange.” This was met with particular murmurs of excitement and even a quick glance from Lady Angelica. Randolph smiled. “On Saturday, I shall host a ball – the neighboring gentry have already been invited. And on Sunday I shall ask one of you to stay on an extra week, at the end of which I will propose.”
There were several pink cheeks after this declaration and even a few low chuckles and self-conscious smiles. Randolph’s only interest was in Lady Angelica’s response. She neither smiled nor blushed but rather bit her lip and frowned harder. And then she looked at him, her gaze locking with his in a hard stare comprised of sheer determination.
His chest tightened and his heart – that part of him that scarcely knew how to function any more – slumped. It was the only way he could think of describing the overwhelming disappointed that filled him. Because he wanted…he wanted…
Oh, hell.
He wanted her to truly want him, not just because of his title or because she needed to marry, but because thinking of him as her husband felt right – because she was drawn to him. God, they scarcely knew each other, had only just met the previous day. It was absurd of him to have such a yearning, yet it couldn’t be helped. He wanted more from Lady Angelica than from the rest.
Idiot.
Tightening his jaw, he addressed Lady Seraphina. “Would you be kind enough to meet me in the green parlor in half an hour?”
“I’d be delighted.” She practically glowed with the pleasure of being the first he’d selected to join him. Little did she know that he’d merely done it in order to get her out of the way as quickly as possible.
With nothing left to say, Randolph stood, excused himself, and left the dining room. Six hours later, with only an hour’s reprieve during luncheon, he was almost ready to hang himself from the rafters in the attic. Lady Seraphina had shown no interest in him at all, except when it came to inquiring about his properties, the number of carriages he owned, and how much time he spent in London. Everything else she said pertained either to herself, her father’s magnificent title, or her family’s close connection to the king.
And then there were Miss Stevens, Miss Chesterfield, and Miss St. James who all seemed to blend into one big mass of blandness. It had been a chore getting any of them to say much of anything. Miss St. James had been especially withdrawn. She had not opened up as her chaperone had assured him she would. Instead, she’d kept her gaze averted from his while offering nods and headshakes by way of response. If he asked a question that demanded more, she’d wait an unbearable ten seconds before mumbling something he couldn’t understand.
So it had been a delightful surprise when Miss Harlow, though somewhat soft spoken and timid, had made a couple of jokes and proven herself to be more than he’d expected. She even answered every question he’d prepared to perfection, proving herself to be, on paper at least, an excellent choice.
“Thank you for an entertaining discussion,” he told her once their time was up. “It has been most enlightening.”
She smiled prettily. Really, there was something beguiling about her he’d not noticed before – perhaps in her eyes or the curve of her mouth? Not that she compared with Lady Angelica, whose looks, though not stunning by any means, captivated him in an entirely different way. Plain and simple, he found her to be incredibly attractive, not just physically, but…
Well, it was her personality really.
“Likewise,” Miss Harlow told him. She seemed to consider the partially open door leading out to the hallway. There was a sense of hesitance about her – an indecision of sorts – until she suddenly met his gaze with a forthrightness he would not have thought her capable of. “Most men would have chosen an entirely different group of candidates.” She didn’t sound accusatory, just as if she were making a clear observation.
Randolph couldn’t disagree. He certainly wasn’t about to argue her point since that would most likely insult her intelligence. So he chose to say nothing as they stood across from each other in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though he did feel as if she were taking his measure.
“Shall I send Lady Angelica in?” she eventually asked. “I believe she is the last to enjoy the pleasure of your company.”
He almost laughed, because he was almost certain Lady Angelica wouldn’t consider it a pleasure, though he definitely meant to convince her otherwise. “Please do.”
Miss Harlow gave a small nod. She moved as if to exit the room, and he almost turned away to prepare himself for Lady Angelica’s arrival. But Miss Harlow suddenly stopped. It seemed she had one more thing to say. “It is often helpful to be faced with undesirable options, for it tends to make the obvious choice so much clearer.”
She was gone before he was able to respond. Her insight had literally stripped him of words, for it was quite unexpected, not only because it had come from a woman who, while proving to be a better conversationalist than Miss St. James, was still a hesitant speaker, but because he was sure the choice she referred to was someone besides herself.
Randolph blinked. Miss Harlow might not be for him, but she was certainly a woman he could respect and admire. And then all thought of her vanished from his mind as Lady Angelica entered the room. Her hands were clasped before her, and she appeared apprehensive in a way that unnerved him. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable in his presence or for her to look so unlike the smiling woman with whom he’d conversed last night. He wanted her as blunt as she had been then, for it had occurred to him that while she’d managed to ruffle his feathers, only someone truly honest would speak as candidly as she had done, and this was something he truly valued.
“Would you care for some tea while we talk?” He gestured toward the sofa, hoping she’d choose it in favor of the armchair so he might sit beside her.
She glanced over her shoulder and shivered. Not a good sign.
But then she gave a small nod. “Tea would be nice.”
A rustling sound whispered close to Angelica’s ear, causing her to glance back as she’d done on countless occasions that morning. Of course nothing was there. She knew before she looked, yet she still couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched from a corner – just off to one side where her gaze didn’t reach. Shivering, she accepted Lord Sterling’s offer of tea. Anything to take her mind off the strange sensations following her wherever she went in this house.
Lord Sterling rang for a maid, who brought a fresh pot and cups to replace the ones he and Lucy had used. Angelica took a deep breath and approached the seating arrangement, electing to sit in the armchair. Lord Sterling appeared to ponder her choice for a moment, then lowered himself to the spot on the sofa closest to her.
“I realize you must have had enough tea today to last you a lifetime,” she said since she was the only woman present and therefor ought to pour, “but would you care for another?”