APretenseofLove (2 page)

“Perhaps this will suit you better.” With a slight tug on
her arm, he led her toward the open french doors and the balcony.

“I shouldn’t be very long, I have a partner for the next
set.”

“I promise to return you when the music ends, all the more
refreshed for having air to breathe.”

Torches lit the edges of the balcony and couples mingled
about in the shadows between, so there was no impropriety in being there. The
only excuse she could find for her inner trembling was the nearness of Mr.
Tilbury, and there was no reason to react to him in such a way. She was not at
all attracted to him.

A breeze stirred, carrying his scent of rosemary and
bergamot. How had she not noticed his cologne in the weeks they shared at his
home? Putting aside the longings it raised, as he wasn’t the sort of man she
sought for a husband, she raised her gaze to his as he turned to face her. “Are
you in Town on business?”

“Of a sort. But not my grandfather’s business.”

“I hadn’t realized you had business holdings outside of
those you inherited.”

He raised one black eyebrow briefly. “I don’t. This is
business of a more…personal manner.”

Why was he being so coy? Feeling quite obstinate in
reaction, she refused to play the game. “Well then, I hope you’re able to
conclude it quickly and return to Three Gables.”

His chuckle was low, barely loud enough for her to hear. “I
also wish for a quick resolution. But it depends on the actions of another, so
I am out of my depths in how to hurry the conclusion.”

The torch behind her sent flickering shadows over Mr.
Tilbury’s face, making his brow even more brooding, his aquiline nose more
pronounced. His eyes were hooded, so she was unable to make out his true
expression, but she swore they smoldered. “How frustrating that must be.
Perhaps if you were to speak to the party in question, that gentleman might be
amenable to a solution that would please you both.”

He sighed, never breaking eye contact. His face seemed to
waver, moving closer before backing away. “I fear my plight can’t be so easily
resolved. I’m uncertain the other party is even aware of the matter, much less
eager to resolve it.”

Jean shifted back a step, hoping the distance would cool her
sudden, startling need to see how Mr. Tilbury’s lips would feel pressed against
hers. The lack of sleep since the Season had begun must be affecting her. The
thought of kissing a man she regarded as a brother! “If you are as coy with him
as you are being now, I would guess he hasn’t a whit of an idea. Really, Mr.
Tilbury, you confuse me with your manner. You stand too close and will give
others the wrong impression. However am I to find a husband if you send tongues
wagging like this?”

His lips spread, and she wished she could see if the smile
reached his eyes. He hadn’t smiled much at Three Gables. His lips parted on an
inhale, and Jean’s tongue flicked across her own lips before she realized what
she’d done. She pressed her mouth tightly closed.

“If I wished to send tongues wagging, I might kiss you here
in front of God and half of London. I could announce my right to do so, as we
are betrothed. But no. When I kiss you, it will be because you have begged me
for it.”

Mr. Tilbury straightened suddenly and took Jean’s elbow.
“Come, we’ve been out here long enough. Your dance partner will be searching
for you.”

Jean planted her heels and jerked her arm free. “We are not
betrothed. Do not even whisper such a thing, as someone will hear you.”

“Ah, but you know me too well to say we are not. I’m a man
of honor, if nothing else. I would never back out of a betrothal.”

Jean awoke early, her head pounding so much she could no
longer pretend to sleep. Visions of Mr. Tilbury had teased and taunted her all
night, increasing her anger and frustration. The problem was she couldn’t
decide whether she was more upset he’d leaned in so close as if to kiss her, or
the fact he hadn’t completed the action.

She pressed her cool fingertips to her lips. She’d been
kissed a few times and liked it enough, but something told her Mr. Tilbury’s
kiss would be unlike those past ones. Even his threat left her restless for
something she couldn’t name.
When I kiss you, it will be because you have
begged me for it.

Throwing back the bedclothes, she rose and donned her
wrapper. How had her world been tossed about like this? A year ago, she’d
spoken to the vicar about a letter of character, should she decide to go ahead
with her plan to find employment as a governess. She had accepted the fact she
would never marry. There were no men calling on her, much less appearing in her
dreams at night.

Now she had gentlemen callers and the possibility of having
offers to choose between. Mr. Tilbury wasn’t the man who should be filling her
dreams. Lord Milford was, or Mr. Portwine. Even some handsome rake she’d never
aspire to, such as Viscount Wetherby or the infamous Miscreant Marquess, would
be better choices to reign in her dreams.

Jean had never aspired to a titled husband. She had only two
requirements of the man she sought—love and financial comfort. She didn’t need
wealth, a grand country house or a home in Mayfair. Just enough pin money to
buy a new ribbon now and again, or a book of poetry, and some to set aside as
an adequate marriage settlement for their daughters. Her daughters would never
be in her position, if she chose wisely. Titles were prestigious but they
didn’t guarantee a happy life. And love spoke for itself, despite what her
mother said on the matter.

The problem with Mr. Tilbury was not his income, for he had
enough of that and more. But not once in their time together had he shown any
marked affection toward her. Taking into consideration the loss of his
grandfather, she didn’t expect grand overtures, but she could have been a
sister or cousin for all the interest he’d shown in her.

He could not have come to London looking for her out of any
grand passion, in spite of how flirtatious he’d been last night. Which meant he
needed a wife to further his business efforts in some way. Jean was not
interested in being his pawn.

A cold compress put her head to rights in time for Mrs.
Granderson’s
at home
, but Jean’s spirits were lagging. Thankfully, Agnes
was the first to appear, with her pug-faced sister in tow.

Agnes whispered in Jean’s ear when they hugged. “I’m dying
to ask about the gentleman you danced with and don’t know if I can wait until
we walk in Hyde Park later.”

Tossing her curls, Jean grinned and pulled her friend aside
so the others wouldn’t hear. “Which gentleman do you mean? I danced with so
many.”

“How you go on. ‘I danced with so many,’ as if you were the
only Diamond at the ball. You know which gentleman I mean. I haven’t met him.
You are keeping him secret, are you?”

Jean knew exactly which one Agnes spoke of but enjoyed
teasing her friend. “Let me find my dance card and refresh my memory.”

Agnes rolled her eyes.

Jean laughed. “Very well. He is no one of significance. In
fact, he’s Mrs. Granderson’s nephew and a friend of my brother. It is through
him we became known to Mrs. Granderson and are staying with her now. His name
is Mr. Tilbury.”

“Will we be seeing more of him?”

Jean steered her friend toward the window seat filled with
embroidered pillows, where they could speak with some small privacy. Miss
Sunderland, Agnes’ sister, sat near the older women. Jean waited until the
others began to speak before quietly answering Agnes. “I doubt it. I’m
surprised to see him in London. I’d thought his business would keep him in
Greater Yarmouth. Although, as he does have a family connection with Mrs.
Granderson, we might see him on occasion while he’s in Town.”

“I hope we do. Is he not the most handsome man we’ve seen
this Season?”

He was, if Jean reflected on the smoldering looks he’d given
her on the balcony, but she couldn’t admit to that. “I suppose he has tolerable
looks.” She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

Agnes cast her a small smile. “Yes, quite tolerable. If you
haven’t an attachment to him, perhaps I should know him better. You must
introduce me.”

A band tightened around Jean’s ribs as if her maid had
over-tightened her stays. What a ridiculous reaction. Why should she care if
Agnes flirted with the man? She had no feelings toward him. “Of course. It
would only be polite to do so, if we do cross paths with him.”

The salon doors opened and Burton, the butler, announced the
arrival of the three Smythe sisters. Jean and Agnes rose to mingle. Lord Milford
and another gentleman arrived soon after, and the lord came straight to Jean
after greeting his hostess.

He bowed quickly over her hand. “How are you this morning,
Miss Seton?”

“I am well, thank you. Is it as warm out today as
yesterday?” How was one supposed to get to know any gentleman when allowed only
minute measures of small talk? She hoped her face didn’t reveal her wish to be
out of doors enjoying the spring sun.

“It’s quite pleasant out. I located a copy of that book you
mentioned, but I have yet to find the time to read.”

“Oh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.”

A loud burst of giggles rang out near the doorway. Jean saw
Mr. Tilbury surrounded by Agnes and the Smythe sisters. Her heart fluttered as
she tried to focus on Lord Milford. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Before he could respond, Mr. Tilbury joined them. “Miss
Seton, you are as lovely as the breeze blowing through my aunt’s roses.”

Her cheeks warmed. “How nice to see you. Are you acquainted
with Lord Milford?” She made the introductions, attempting to make clear her
friendship with the lord.

Mr. Tilbury said the appropriate things before steering the
conversation his own way. “I picked up the phaeton I ordered this morning and
am eager to take it for a spin. If you are free this afternoon, I would be
honored if you would join me, Miss Seton.”

Jean’s mouth opened and closed again. She glanced at Lord
Milford, uncertain how to respond. Shouldn’t he jump to her protection and
imply they had a prior engagement, even though they had none? If he were
considering any sort of suit, as his constant attentions seemed to imply, he
should try to keep her from seeing other men.

Yet he said nothing.

Jean sighed. “I should be happy to join you if my mother
hasn’t made other plans for me.” She could hope either her mother or his aunt
had booked her day solid, but she had an inkling those ladies would break an
engagement with anyone lower than the Prince Regent himself if it meant she
could go riding with Mr. Tilbury.

“Splendid. I shall leave you to your guests, then.” He
performed a slight bow and crossed to where his aunt sat.

Although she tried not to, she watched him move gracefully
about the room speaking to everyone present, even Agnes’ bluestocking sister.
He stayed a moment longer with her than with the others, coaxing a smile, then
a laugh, from the young woman, whose cheeks blossomed and eyes brightened.
Under his attentions, she appeared much more attractive.

Of course he had the talent of mingling. Such a skill was
necessary to succeed in business. She hadn’t seen how Mr. Tilbury got on with
others during her stay at Three Gables due to their seclusion, as they’d tried
to keep their sham betrothal a secret.

Everyone in the room seemed taken with Mr. Tilbury. Jean
couldn’t explain the disappointment she felt at that knowledge. How much easier
it would be to keep her distance if everyone disliked him.

* * * * *

A few hours later, Ben called out to a boy on the street,
asking him to watch over his horses and phaeton, then trotted up the steps to
knock on Aunt Granderson’s door. He was quickly admitted by Burton, who advised
Ben the ladies were in the salon.

“Hullo again, Aunt, Mrs. Seton. You both are looking well.”
He smiled at each woman before letting his gaze find Miss Seton.

“Did you suppose some illness would lay us low since we saw
you last?” Aunt Granderson’s eyes twinkled.

“I wished no such event. I merely meant you look well.”

“Save the pleasantries for the young ladies. Our
constitutions are less able to digest too many sweet expressions in one day.”

Using that as his invitation to address Miss Seton, he held
out his hand. “Are you ready for our drive through the park?”

“Yes, thank you.” She picked up the shawl draped over her
chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. She walked toward the door without
taking his arm.

Once they sat on the leather bench of the phaeton, Ben eased
his horse into the traffic. “That shade of lavender suits you. I’m pleased to
see you aren’t bowing to the strictest fashion that requires young ladies to
wear white. Too many of your fair sex are completely washed away in it.”

Miss Seton gave a strangled cry close to that of a cat being
stepped on. “You are the most insolent…”

He almost wished she’d continued. At times, he wondered what
she thought of him. “Because I tell you that you look more fetching in lavender
than white?”

“No. Yes! Not only do you feel entitled to voice your
opinion on what I wear, but you imply that our betrothal was real. You know
very well I only agreed to pose as your fiancée to please Sir Waldo. No one
else was to know of the pretense. I fear you will ruin my chances of a real
marriage if you don’t leave London at once.”

He chuckled. She’d apparently also been pretending to be
meek and obedient at Three Gables. He was delighted to see this side of her.
He’d never admit it to Ringley, but coming to London had been a wise move. “If
I were to leave at this very moment, your character would suffer a much greater
blow than my insisting we’re betrothed ever could inflict. Or did you wish me
to leave you here on the street?”

She tugged her shawl more tightly around her. “You
understood my meaning perfectly, do not suggest otherwise. I am not suggesting
we run away together. I thought you were my friend. Why are you attempting to
spoil everything?”

His posture relaxed slightly as the fight whispered out of
him. Did she really not want his company? That didn’t bode well, now that he
was willing to admit the truth. “It became quite apparent after you left, I am
in need of a wife.”

“What about all that bluster about not marrying until the
last moment possible to beget an heir?” Her voice dropped an octave and her
lips pursed as she imitated Ben. “The old man can’t force me to marry. I’ll
find a temporary bride and when the old man passes on, I can return to my Bird
of Paradise.”

He flinched at that last part. “Did I really say as much?”

Jean turned her face toward the oncoming carriages. “If not
in exact words, then in content. And I have no intentions of being any man’s
mistress.”

“Gilbert would have my head for even thinking such a thing.”
His thoughts did stray on occasion to wondering how passionate she could
become, but he’d never put her in the same class as a lightskirt.

She was quiet for a bit. Ben turned the phaeton into Hyde
Park, following the flow of riders and conveyances. How had he been foolish
enough to think he could simply arrive on his aunt’s doorstep and Miss Seton
would fall into his arms? They’d gotten on well enough that he’d magnified
their friendship into something more passionate.

Now he’d lost control of this situation. He only wished to
spend some time amiably with Miss Seton, to remind her of the hours they’d
spent in comfortable seclusion at Three Gables. Then he could press his suit.
He needed to start fresh. “Is London everything you hoped it would be?”

Miss Seton toyed with the hem of her glove. “It is more
crowded than I had imagined. But there is always something to do, another shop
to visit, even if one doesn’t buy anything.”

His brows pulled together. She should be free to purchase
everything she desired. “My aunt was told to send me the bills for anything you
needed. Is your wardrobe lacking? Do you have enough bonnets? I had included
all of those as necessities when I made our agreement.”

She laughed and put her hand on his sleeve. “Never worry. I
have more gowns than I could possibly wear in a year, and shoes to match all of
them. Mrs. Granderson was quite efficient in that department.”

“Then what do you lack? What sort of thing do you admire but
not purchase?”

“Do men only visit the shops when they require something? I
am certain women don’t limit themselves so. We admire trinkets and laces and
ribbons enough to fill a shop of our own. We’ve no intention of purchasing half
of what we comment on.”

“I suppose there are some gentlemen who enjoy the sport of
shopping as much as the ladies. I could see little purpose in it, myself. I’d
just as soon send someone to pick up what I need. If my valet wore the same
size, I’d have him go for fittings too.”

A gentleman on horseback trotted up on Miss Seton’s side of
the carriage. “I thought that was you, Miss Seton. You look splendid today.”

“Mr. Baxter, how are you?” Her voice overflowed with
politeness.

“Quite well, thank you. And your mother is well?”

Ben ignored the inane conversation. How did she stand such
drollery?
My mother is well, my sister is well, I am well, my cat is well
…
Ben noticed two more gentlemen had stopped to flatter her as well. Traffic was
building up behind them, yet if he spoke of it, he might be taken as jealous or
possessive. Neither would paint him in a good light, so he seethed in silence.