A Most Unconventional Match (23 page)

‘What unnatural beings,' she replied, her quick smile fading as she asked, ‘Must you leave…soon?'

‘Within day or so.'

‘You will stop to say goodbye before you go?'

Had nodded, wishing once again he didn't have to leave. He could sit here for ever in this hackney, watching Elizabeth Lowery smile at him. ‘Couldn't go without seeing you.'

‘I shall miss you,' she said softly, gazing up at him with a tenderness that made Hal's heart thump in his chest. ‘You won't…stay away too long, will you?'

‘Come back as soon as I can,' he confirmed.

‘Good,' she said, her eyes drifting shut on a sigh as she inclined her head toward him.

With her chin tilted up, her lips were so close that in the space of a heartbeat he could have bent down to capture them. Kissing her, tasting her, wrapping her in his arms was a vision that had possessed and tortured him for so long, he could scarcely imagine not living under her spell. But badly as he wanted to kiss her—and much as his no doubt fevered imagination tried to whisper that with her leaning toward him, her face upraised, she
wanted
him to kiss her—he didn't dare believe the time was yet right.

He would rather die of frustrated desire than spoil the golden harmony of shared interest and affection that had bound them together so strongly all afternoon.

It was then he realised he could do it. He could wait for her. Though he wanted so much more, to laugh with her, to share moments like these with her, to have her gaze at him with trust and affection would be enough to hold him until she was ready to leave the past behind and embrace her future.

Whether or not that future would realise all his dreams for them, he refused to spoil the wonder of today worrying about.

In a sudden squeal of harness, the hackney braked to a halt. Elizabeth started, her eyes flying open, her cheeks pinking as she sat back, moving her tempting lips out of reach.

Hal sighed, not completely sure he'd done the right thing by refraining from kissing her. Before he could sort the matter out, her footman threw open the hackney door and helped her alight.

She turned to him after he'd followed her out. ‘Can you stay for tea?'

Regretfully he shook his head. ‘Sorry, must collect carriage and go. Appointment.' One of the last in the series of consultations that preceded his departure to begin the project. A project he now intended to expedite so he might return with all speed.

She nodded. ‘Then I suppose nothing remains but for me to thank you again. And give you this.' She offered him the sketchbook.

‘Will take good care of it,' he assured her.

‘Good day, Mr Waterman. I hope I shall see you again soon.'

‘Count on it,' he promised, savouring her rose scent as he bowed over her fingers.

He watched as she ascended the stairs, stopping as the front door opened to give him a little wave before disappearing into the house. Smiling to himself as he played over in his mind the events of the afternoon, he waited on the kerb while the groom brought his curricle.

A short time later, he whipped up his team and headed off to his meeting. Yes, he would have to leave London. But, he thought, excitement licking up his veins, when he'd completed what must be done, he would have Elizabeth to call on when he returned, Elizabeth with whom to discuss the new investment ventures he contemplated, Elizabeth—he glanced down at the sketchbook beside him—to consult about potential portrait commissions.

Elizabeth. His shout of exultation at that glorious fact caused his leader to shy. Laughing at himself, he brought the horse back under control and steered the vehicle toward Hyde Park. His meeting occurring at the town house of an investor on the opposite side of the park, since it was nearly past the fashionable hour, driving down the carriageways here would probably be faster than navigating through the busy London streets.

Some of that euphoria dimmed, however, when he reached the park and noticed a lady in a carriage approaching him, waving wilding, obviously trying to catch his attention. His delight died altogether when he recognised his mother.

Damn and blast. The last thing he wished was to have to stop and chat with her—and Lady Tryphena, whom he recognised beside her as the two vehicles converged.

But there was no way now he could pretend he'd not seen her. He would have to pull up and greet them.

Stifling a curse, as he halted his team and threw the reins to his tiger, he tried to tell himself it wasn't such a bad thing. He would have to pay a call on his mother before leaving London to inform her of his plans anyway, at which time she would undoubtedly abuse him for deserting her, not honouring his promise to escort Lady Tryphena, and being generally the most unsatisfactory of sons. Here in the park, with Lady Tryphena at her side and perhaps some other friends as well, he might escape with a shorter version of the rebuke.

He paced to the carriage and leaned up to kiss the hand she offered. ‘Hello, Mama, Lady Tryphena.'

‘Well, if it isn't my long-absent son! Having done your duty by Englemere's widow, I trust you are now ready to assist your own mama. Lady Tryphena has also been awaiting your return with impatience, haven't you, my dear?' Mrs. Waterman asked, smiling at her protégée.

Brown curls bobbing, the young lady shook her head. ‘With the greatest impatience, I assure you, ma'am.' Turning a brilliant smile on Hal, she said, ‘I do so hope we will now be privileged to share your company.'

Somewhat taken aback, Hal blinked at her. She continued to smile ardently at him, as if he were the answer to her maiden's prayers.

Hal found himself wondering if for some reason she needed his mama's approval—or the Waterford wealth—more than he'd thought.

At least she'd not begun by correcting his speech.

His mama patted the carriage seat beside her. ‘Take a turn around the park with us, my dear, and let us catch up on all your news. So much has happened! Why, just last night, the Layton chit—Lord Sidney's youngest, and a paler, more tongue-tied girl you can hardly imagine—was caught tête-à-tête behind the potted plants at Lady Mansfield's gala with that naughty Lord Montclare! Rogue that he is, I imagine he'll manage to slither out of having to offer for her. Shall you dine with us tonight?'

‘Can't dine. No turn about park either. On my way to meeting. Just say hello.'

‘Another one of your dreary finance meetings, I suppose!' she said with a moue of distaste. ‘Surely you can make time tomorrow, after so sadly neglecting us!'

‘Was going to call. Leaving London soon. More business in north.'

‘Again?' she protested. ‘Why, you've only just returned! I declare, you use me monstrously. Lady Tryphena, tell my son what an unfeeling monster he is to his mama.'

‘We will both sorely miss you, Mr. Waterman,' Lady Tryphena said. ‘How long do you expect to be gone?'

‘Not sure. A fortnight, perhaps longer.' In truth, he now hoped to return within ten days. But with luck, if his Mama thought him still out of town, he might escape a summons from her for at least that long.

‘A fortnight!' his mama echoed. ‘But the Season is already begun! There are any number of important events in the next two weeks. You cannot be so cruel to me—and Lady Tryphena—as to deny us your escort for all of them!'

‘Indeed, Mr Waterman, I shall be quite desperately disappointed if you abandon us for two whole weeks,' Lady Tryphena cried.

She actually looked a bit desperate, gazing so earnestly at him. She really must be eager to start spending his blunt.

Maybe he should tell them he meant to be gone a month.

Not quite able to reconcile it with his conscience to tell that great a fib, Hal said, ‘Sorry to disappoint. Must go now. Send you note, call when return, Mama.'

‘Oh, please do, Mr Waterman! We shall be quite devastated until your return,' Lady Tryphena declared.

‘Indeed we shall,' his mother agreed, pouting as she offered him her fingers to kiss. ‘I should have expected you to display a stronger sense of duty towards your mama—but I shall say no more now. I'll anticipate seeing you again in no longer than a fortnight!'

‘Perhaps even sooner,' Lady Tryphena added.

Declining to comment on that, Hal bowed to them both. ‘Good day, ladies.' With a huge sense of relief, he turned and moved off to catch up with his carriage…acutely aware of Lady Tryphena's sharp gaze following him.

Daylight was fading by the time Hal returned to his lodgings. Striding into his study, he began packing up the rolls of engineering drawings, expense ledgers and letters of introduction he'd obtained to other potential investors.

With the consultation he'd just completed, he had now enough investors pledged to the project that he could, if he wished, begin his journey tomorrow. Loathe as he was to leave London and Elizabeth Lowery, the sooner he got the project underway, the sooner he would be able to return.

He would delay his departure only long enough to call in Green Street and inform Elizabeth of his plans.

A wistful smile touched his lips. Would Elizabeth protest his leaving as vociferously as Mama had? He thought she'd looked kindly at him today…even ardently, though he must be careful not to project his sensual desires on to her. Indeed, newly widowed as she was, he'd most certainly been mistaken in thinking she'd deliberately leaned toward him in the carriage, as if offering up her lips for his kiss.

Would she ever offer them? Could he bear it if she did not?

Dimly he became aware of a murmur of agitated voices in the hallway beyond the heavy mahogany door. When, after several moments, the noise continued, accented by the sounds of scuffling, with a frown he rose from his desk.

About to ask Jeffers what the devil was going on, Hal opened the door to the hallway and stopped short. To his consternation, straining against Jeffers, who was apparently trying to drag her toward the front door that stood wide open behind them, her cheeks flushed pink with effort and her face determined, there in his entryway stood Lady Tryphena Upton.

T
o the murderous glare Hal turned on him, Jeffers protested, ‘It wasn't my fault! I told her she mustn't come in, but she—she wrestled her way past me!'

Aghast, Hal hastened to close the front door, praying that old Lady Worthington, who resided across the street and lived for gossip about the
ton
, hadn't chanced to look out of her front windows. He added another prayer that in the few moments Lady Tryphena had stood on his doorstep, no
ton
carriage had passed by bearing someone who recognised her.

‘Insist on entering, go in,' he told Lady Tryphena grimly, gesturing to the study. ‘Stay here!' he snapped at Jeffers before he followed her in, leaving the door to the hallway ajar and wondering what in heaven had possessed the girl to do something as unforgivably scandalous as pay a visit upon a single gentleman in his rooms—without even the vestige of a maid to lend her respectability.

Indicating she should take the chair behind the desk, he strode over to the hearth, his mind already reeling at the possible calamities that might result from this unprecedented invasion of his privacy.

Voicing his first suspicion, he demanded, ‘Mama put you up to this?'

Now that she'd achieved her object, Lady Tryphena looked less sure of herself. ‘Well, not precisely,' she replied, perching on the edge of Hal's oversized desk chair and rubbing her hands together nervously. ‘She did hint that perhaps I might speed things along by inducing you to linger alone with me in some drawing room, where we might be discovered so society would decide I'd been compromised. But how am I to do that, if you never escort us anywhere?'

‘Want to marry me?' he asked bluntly.

Her face coloured. ‘No! I mean, yes! Oh, it's so complicated!' To his disgust and dismay, Lady Tryphena burst into tears.

Of all feminine stratagems, Hal most disliked waterworks. Biting back a curse, he stomped to the side table, poured a generous glass of wine and carried it to the sobbing girl. Shaking her shoulder none too gently, he held out the glass. ‘Drink,' he ordered.

With a little hiccup of surprise, she ceased weeping and stared at him, then accepted the glass.

After waiting for her to take a sip, Hal said, ‘Better tell the whole.'

‘Well, everything was going splendidly until this Season. Though Mama was upset that I'd rebuffed all my suitors, since Papa and Reginald—my eldest brother—never pay any attention to me, I was left alone. But then, at the race meetings last fall, Reginald lost an enormous sum gaming. Papa's losses were almost as great, plus he invested a huge amount in some ships that got lost in a storm off India. So now he's demanding that I help the family by marrying a man of wealth, and soon.'

If it weren't his neck she was trying to stick in a noose, Hal might almost have felt sorry for her. ‘Chose me for honour?' he asked drily.

She nodded. ‘When your mama approached me, it suddenly occurred to me that you were perfect! If I could please Mrs Waterman and remain near you, I could figure out a way to get us engaged. I have to become engaged to some gentleman of means, you see, or Papa threatened he would send me to live with Great-Aunt Serephina in Northumberland, and I should never have pretty dresses or go to the theatre or see my darling Charles again!'

Hal blinked. ‘Charles?'

Her teary visage grew rapturous. ‘He is the dearest, most wonderful man! And I shall never, ever love anyone else, no matter what Papa threatens to do to me!'

‘Why marry me, then?'

‘Charles is just a younger son and dreadfully poor, so Papa wouldn't hear of us marrying, nor Charles's family either, once they discovered Papa and Reginald had lost so much money that I no longer had a large dowry.'

‘Marry me, lose Charles,' Hal pointed out, trying to hang on to his patience.

‘But that's just it! Everyone knows your mama has been trying to marry you off for ages, yet you've managed to resist all her attempts. I thought if I could just compromise you enough that you had to offer for me, you'd be in no hurry to wed. As long as I was affianced to a man of great wealth, Papa's creditors would leave him alone and Charles would have time to figure out how we could be together.'

‘Asinine scheme!' Hal said curtly. ‘What if went ahead and married you?'

Shock and distress coloured her face. ‘You—you wouldn't do that, would you?'

‘No wish to marry you,' he assured her, brain racing as he tried to think a way out of this tangle. Coming up with a possible solution, he asked, ‘Willing to elope?'

‘Elope—with Charles?' she gasped. ‘How scandalous!'

Before Hal could compromise his integrity by urging on her a solution that would ruin her reputation as thoroughly as leaving his house unaffianced, her eyes brightened and she cried, ‘But how exciting! That would be perfect! You're not as slow-witted as your mama claims after all.'

‘Not bacon-brained enough to compromise someone don't want to marry,' Hal retorted.

‘I am not bacon-brained!' she flashed back. ‘I think my delaying action was brilliant. It's all well for you to sniff. You're a man; you can inherit or earn the money you need. Or borrow it. Or flee the country and start over. A girl has only herself in marriage to bargain with.'

She had a point there, Hal conceded reluctantly. ‘This Charles willing to elope too?'

She straightened, looking affronted. ‘Of course! He would face any danger or scandal to claim me for his own!'

Still thinking rapidly, he asked, ‘Charles have profession? Skills to support wife?'

Lady Tryphena frowned. ‘He's a gentleman.'

Hal sighed. ‘No skills. Could live outside London?'

‘If we are together, we could be happy in a hovel!'

Hal doubted that, as hovels seldom came equipped with theatre seats and pretty dresses, but if the couple were prepared to eschew London, he might arrange something. He had a large estate in the Marches that could provide its manager enough income to support a wife, and the property was in good enough order that even if the unknown Charles were as great an idiot as Lady Tryphena, he probably couldn't ruin it.

‘Who knows you here?'

She lifted her chin, eyeing him warily. ‘I told my dear friend Olivia Compton that I might have to Do Something Desperate. And Lady Worthington saw me from her window. I waved at her just before I came in.'

Groaning, Hal poured himself a generous glass of wine, downed it in two gulps and began pacing the room.

He'd hoped to delay his departure and take several days to sort this out, but with Lady Worthington doubtless glued to her front window, waiting for Lady Tryphena to emerge from his house, there wasn't a second to lose, lest he find the parson's mousetrap closing around him.

He only hoped Lady Tryphena's Charles was as ready to flee to Gretna as she was to go there with him. If not, Hal would find himself in a difficult situation indeed.

Regardless, though, he thought, setting his jaw, he would not be bullied into wedding the girl just to save her reputation—or his own. Would Elizabeth ever speak to him again, he wondered, an ache in his heart, if she thought he'd ruined and abandoned a young lady of quality?

He'd have to see that it didn't come to that. Which meant Charles was going to find himself married over the anvil, if Hal had to use half a fortune to bribe him to it.

Just figuring out how to justify to Elizabeth how he got into this coil to begin with would be difficult enough.

Telling himself he'd deal with that problem when the time came, he turned to Lady Tryphena, who'd been watching him pace, a hopeful expression on her face.

‘Can get private message to Charles?' Hal asked, not at all surprised when she nodded enthusiastically.

Hal pulled out paper and a quill. ‘Tell him come here tonight.' Beckoning to Jeffers, he said, ‘When finished writing, take lady out to mews through kitchen. Summon hackney. See home. Then deliver note where tells you.'

Turning back to Lady Tryphena, he said, ‘Pack bag. Unless Charles fails, leave tonight.'

‘Charles will not fail! You're going to help us elope, aren't you?' she asked eagerly. ‘Oh, that is a million times better than getting engaged to you!'

‘Indeed,' Hal agreed drily. Deciding he'd better remove himself before he strangled a girl who was more self-absorbed and oblivious even than his mother, he gave her a short bow and trotted up the stairs to his bedroom. With an elopement to arrange and the project papers to pack, he had a thousand details to settle before they left this evening.

And neither the time nor the eloquence necessary to explain in person his abrupt departure to Elizabeth Lowery.