A Curious Courting (28 page)

Her gaze remained intent on the fringe she was weaving between her fingers, but she nodded.

“Silly goose. I cannot excuse my irritability on the score of being sharp-set.” He twined one of her brown curls about his finger and asked, “Does your hair curl so tightly because of the rain?”

In a strangled voice she said, “Yes, it always has.”

“I like it.”

“Th-thank you.”

Rushton ran a finger along the line of her jaw and down to the pulse beating wildly in her throat. “On our way to London, I am going to take Henry to visit Rugby.”

“You…think he should go there?” Selina forced herself to meet his eyes.

“Not necessarily Rugby, but it is closest, and will give him an idea of what such a school is like. My godmother’s nephew is there and can show Henry about if we arrive before the Easter holidays.” He took hold of her restless hands. “You don’t object?”

“No, but I cannot speak for Lord Leyburn.”

“He can’t object to Henry visiting the school, and there is plenty of time to approach him on the matter later. You heard your cousin at luncheon. He’s full of youthful hopes and dreams, but they have very little direction. The farming interests him, but he knows little else, Miss Easterly-Cummings. He’s wistful about what other boys are doing and thinking and planning. He should have the opportunity to find out, and to have other young men as companions.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Good. Now I should like to know why you would not sell the vale to Lord Benedict.”

The question was so unexpected, so alarming, that she pulled her hands from his and rose precipitately. “I think that is not a matter of your concern, Mr. Rushton.” She cast a hasty glance at the sleeping Henry.

“I understand you were once engaged to Lord Benedict,” he said helpfully, retaining his seat in spite of her defiant stance.

“I don’t see how that can possibly interest you, Mr. Rushton.”

“But it does. Won’t you tell me?” When she did not reply but stood staring at the fire, he asked, “Are the roses in the glass box from Lord Benedict?”

“How do you know about the roses?” she asked indignantly.

“You had me get a piece of paper from the drawer.”

“Oh.”

“Are you still attached to Lord Benedict?”

“Of course not.”

“To Geoffrey Haslett?”

“This conversation is ridiculous, Mr. Rushton.”

“Not at all.”

“It is! How would you like it if I asked you if you were attached to Miss Longstreet?”

“Her name is Longmead, Miss Easterly-Cummings.” Rushton regarded her speculatively. “Who told you about her?”

“She was mentioned in passing,” Selina murmured, her chin up.

A slow smile spread over Rushton’s face. “By Sir Penrith?”

“No. I’m sure Pen would never discuss your affairs.”

“Haslett, then. What did he tell you?”

Selina kept her back stubbornly to him.

“Come now, my dear. I don’t mind discussing Miss Longmead. Did Haslett think I had offered for her?”

“He said he thought she’d shown you the door,” Selina quoted.

“She did.”

Abruptly Selina turned to face him. “I’m truly sorry. Perhaps she will change her mind.”

“I hope not,” he laughed. “Did you think she had broken my heart? Or did you think about it at all?”

“I thought Mr. Haslett was probably wrong and that you were going to London to settle the matter,” Selina admitted, her hands clenched until the knuckles became white.

“I see. Miss Longmead bruised my pride, but she never touched my heart. I think Pen was delighted that she wouldn’t have me; he doesn’t like her. He likes you very much.”

Her startled eyes flew to his. “I… I’m very fond of Penrith.”

“I envy him. Do sit down, my dear.” He touched the seat beside him on the sofa and lifted a brow enquiringly. Selina moved forward without hesitation, and allowed him to take her hands when she sat beside him. He continued in a matter of fact voice, “I promised Penrith that I would come to town for Cassandra’s ball. I have helped to send off his other sisters, you see, and he regards me as some sort of talisman, I fear.”

“You are kind to help him,” she said mechanically.

“His sisters don’t need my help, if I have any to offer. They are all good-hearted girls with sufficient looks to do very well on their own. And Cassandra confided to me that she and Lord John have an understanding of sorts.”

“She confided in you?” Selina asked, amazed.

“Not everyone sees me as an ogre, Miss Easterly-Cummings. I stayed at Oak Park for some weeks and we often fell into conversation. I see nothing unusual in it. She knew I would not misuse her confidence.” He regarded her wistfully.

“You ... want me to confide in you, too?”

“Just so that I will understand why you are afraid of me,” he said blandly.

“But I’m
not
afraid of you,” she protested, albeit somewhat nervously.

“Would you let me kiss you?”

“N-No. Why should I?”

Instead of answering her question he said, “I had Penrith arrange for you to be invited to London.”

She regarded him helplessly, but could think of no comment to make.

“I enjoy the time I spend in London. I wondered if you would, too.”

She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. “You thought I would not know how to act in Society.”

“London is different than the shires, my dear. You have a habit of doing very much as you please.”

“I could behave properly if I wished to.”

“Precisely. But would you wish to? And would you find pleasure there if you had to conform to a lot of antiquated rules or be ostracized?”

“I would not have shamed Lady Southwood.”

Again he twined a lock of her hair about his finger. “Why wouldn’t you sell the vale to Lord Benedict?”

The red and yellow stripes of the waistcoat swam before her eyes. “Because he tried to seduce me there.”

“When you were engaged?”

She nodded. “He offered to let me keep Henry with me if I would…As though Henry were a stray dog…” A quick glance assured her that her cousin was still asleep. “He didn’t really care for me at all. He wanted Shalbrook, and the vale, and my…body.”

“Why did you keep the roses?”

“They were from before he went to the Peninsula. I kept them on my vanity until that day. The roses are a reminder.”

“Of what?”

“Of how easily I was deceived. He was so handsome, so attractive to me. I almost. . .” She attempted to draw her hand from his, but he held it firmly. “But he wasn’t what I thought him at all. How could I be so blind?”

“And Geoffrey Haslett?”

“I met him only a few months later. He was so gay, so light-hearted. Everything had gotten to be too much for me, and he laughed at everything. I think he did care for me, after his fashion.”

“And?”

Selina sighed. “I happened to overhear him tell his mistress that nothing need change if he married.” The red and yellow stripes were becoming a familiar pattern before her eyes. “He told me recently that everyone keeps a mistress, because wives are too fragile to be bothered all the time.” She darted a questioning look at him.

“You don’t appear very fragile to me,” he assured her.

“I wouldn’t like my husband to have a mistress.”

 “I doubt he’d have any need of one,” Rushton retorted with a grin.

“Yes, well, the roses remind me that I have twice been mistaken.”

He traced the oval of her face with a gentle finger. “I can’t prove I am not like them, Selina. And you have only my word that I love you dearly. Will you let me kiss you?”

“Yes.” Her eyes met his for a moment before she yielded to his embrace. As their first kiss had been, it was not in the least comforting, or brotherly, nor was it excessively demanding, but it was thorough. And he kissed her eyelids, and her nose, and her chin with a tenderness that contrasted delightfully with the obvious strength of him. She stared wide-eyed into his warm blue eyes when they drew apart. “I…know you are different than they were. I think I have always known it, but I was so afraid to trust my judgment.”

“At least you know my faults from the start, my love. Will you marry me?”

“You trust me not to shame you, Gareth?” Selina felt unusually vulnerable as she searched his eyes.

“I have a profound respect for your loyalties, Selina. If you care for me...”

“Oh, I do. Sometimes so much that it hurts. And I want more than anything to marry you. But what of Shalbrook and the hunting-box and Henry, and…”

Rushton laid a finger on her lips. “We can work all of that out. The important thing is that you will marry me.” As he made to take her in his arms, they heard Henry stir on the sofa opposite, and Selina clung fast to his hand.

Only partially awake, Henry regarded them owlishly. “I say, did I fall asleep? Forgive me! It was all that wine. Have I missed my boxing lesson?”

Rushton smiled at Selina as he addressed the young man. “We were just about to send for some champagne, Henry.”

Copyright © 1980 by Elizabeth Rotter

Electronically published in 2001 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.