“Why did you offer this invitation?” she finally asked, breaking our silence.
I glanced down at her and grinned. She didn’t disappoint when it came to conversation. She always made it interesting. No talk of flowers, dresses, and balls for Miriam Bathurst. She went right to the point. Direct like a man and damn if that wasn’t fun.
“I would assume it was obvious. I enjoy your company.”
She lifted her head then and looked up at me. “You do?” she asked, looking as if she thought I was crazed if I thought she’d believe that statement.
“Who wouldn’t? You’re delightful. You aren’t boring and proper. I find you intriguing.”
She looked away from me then and kept her gaze straight ahead. “Is that so? Well, I believe you are up to something.”
I hadn’t expected her to hit so closely to the truth. She was intelligent of that I had no doubt. However, this was impressive. Uncomfortably so.
“Why would you think that?” I asked because I could think of nothing else to say. She’d blindsided me.
She didn’t respond right away, but when she did, she looked back up at me. Those eyes of hers so full of wisdom and disillusionment. She didn’t have the same sparkle of hope most ladies in society did. There was no fairy tale brewing in her head or dreams of being a title that held esteem and power.
“Your eyes say much about you, Mr. Compton. Just as your brother’s do. I amuse you and that is why we are out today. Nothing more. I’m a moment of intrigue and that is all. I don’t harbor some hope of more where you or Lord Ashington are concerned. I came to London for my sister and I will do what I must for her future happiness. I have no desire to play any games you may have; I simply have no time for them.”
Words so bluntly expressed without a batting of lashes and flirtatious grin, I had never heard from a lady’s mouth. At least not in London. Taking a quick glance at Miriam, I asked, “Are you sure you aren’t from Paris?” I knew she was not but the way she did not hold her tongue and expressed her thoughts so boldly reminded me of the reason I much preferred Paris.
Miss Bathurst smirked then and her shoulders seemed to be a touch straighter than before, if that were possible. “Thank you,” she said simply.
Frowning now unsure of why I was receiving thanks, I paused but a moment then asked. “You are most welcome, but what is it I am being recognized for?”
Miss Bathurst grinned then. A smug grin, not at all an expression I expected to see on her face. It was almost wicked and damn if it wasn’t appealing. She need not do anything to be more appealing, but yet here she was flashing a smile that could make a man’s knees weak without notice. “There are many things I do not wish, Mr. Compton. Being one of the many silly English ladies in search of a husband is one of them.”
But yet she was here in London for the season doing just that. “Correct me if I am wrong, but you are, indeed, in London for the marriage mart, are you not?”
She sighed then and her shoulders drooped only the slightest inch. “Yes, you know that I am. It does not mean I want to be or that I wish to appear to be like all the others. A husband was never something I desired. I realize that may come as a shock to you, but not all women want to be married. Not all women want to give up their freedom to be… to be…,” she paused and then waved her hand in the general direction of the others out for a stroll, “them.”
I didn’t need to look about to understand her words. I was fascinated by Miriam Bathurst, but I had been since the moment I watched her turn my brother down. She was an anomaly in a sea of indistinguishable females.
“You are the most fascinating lady I have ever known,” I told her truthfully.
A small smile touched her lips then and her cheeks turned a light pink. I found an odd pleasure in knowing I had made her blush. I did not believe such a feat would be easy. If I wasn’t careful, Miss Miriam Bathurst would ruin everything I had set in motion.
Chapter Ten
The Earl of Ashington
I was too young for this. Too young to be weighed down with choosing the proper wife. Or was I too damn picky. Whatever my problem, I had to get my priorities sorted. Emma deserved a mother and I would supply her with just that. However, I must first overcome the issues I currently faced. Staring down into my glass of brandy, I knew the answers weren’t there, but at least it took the edge off my dilemma.
Today’s visit to Lydia Ramsbury’s home had proven several things. One, she was a proper lady, she had been raised to run a home, she was aware of all that was required of a countess, she was demure and soft spoken, she was kind and talented at the pianoforte, and she was completely and utterly boring. Scowling at that last admission, I took another drink. It was an unfair description that she had done nothing to deserve. Yet, my poor decision to call upon Miss Bathurst this morning had hindered my thinking. That was the only way to explain it.
If Miriam Bathurst wasn’t so, so, bold, and so, confident, and… so damn beautiful, it would be easier for a man to forget her when he left her presence. However, she made it damn well impossible with her eyes that shown a depth most ladies her age would never fathom. She would make a poor countess and wife. There was not one ounce of meekness in her gaze. She was fascinating and intelligent. The life I would provide would bore her and Emma needed a mother to be a proper role model, so she could ease into this society without question or speculation.
The door behind me opened and a squeal erupted before a flash of blue passed beside me to hide behind the heavy drapes. I stared a moment, wondering if I should ask or just wait on Alice to arrive. She wouldn’t be far behind. I took another drink of the brandy then sat my glass down on the desk beside me, just as Alice entered the room.
The exasperated look on her face as she scanned the area then looked at me was clear. Emma was causing trouble. Another reason my pursuit of a wife needed to speed up and my thoughts about Miss Bathurst were wasting my time.
“Where is she?” Alice asked, placing a hand on her hip and scowling at me as if I had been the one to hide her. I motioned toward the drapes just as a small giggle came from them.
“Miss Emma, come out from behind those drapes at once!” Alice demanded. I wondered what the child had done now. It looked as if it were bad. Alice was not happy, but then she was not a happy person.
“No!” Emma shouted, but it was muffled from the thick fabric in front of her.
Alice sighed in frustration. “You were to be writing your name.”
“I don’t like writing. Tis boring,” Emma shot back at her Governess. “I want to wash my baby.”
“You’ve washed more than your baby. Come out from there so we can change your clothing. You are completely and utterly soaked.”
“You’ll make me write my name more!”
Alice shot me a look that was clear she required help.
I walked over to the drapes and pulled back the panel and my little trouble-maker was hiding behind. Emma stood there shivering slightly in a damp blue dress with her blonde hair in wet ringlets around her face. “What have we here? Did you decide to take a bath in your clothing?” I asked her.
She shook her head and her bottom lip quivered slightly. “No-oo-o” she said chattering her teeth. “I was washing May and I fell into the ba-ba--bath. It wasn’t o-o-on purpose.”