Romancing the Countess (27 page)
“Perhaps a new handkerchief,” Leah said. She couldn’t afford a new chemise.
Shutting the door behind her, she walked beside Christine as they went down the servants’ stairs. The only time she used the front portion of the house was in the company of Mrs. Campbell.
“I mean to buy the scarf today,” Christine said as they walked through the kitchen.
“The blue one with the lace edging you showed me last time?”
Christine nodded and held the back door open for her. They walked along the side of the house, toward the public path at the front.
Leah gave Christine a sly look. “There’s also the hat. I’m sure Robert would appreciate it when you go walking later.”
Christine blushed at the mention of the first footman. “He’s only a friend. As I’ve told you before. A hundred times.”
They began to walk along the street, away from the house. A carriage passed by. “And that’s why you’re blushing, of course.”
Christine humphed and looked away pointedly. “If I blush, it’s only because you enjoy teasing me so.”
They heard the coachman of the carriage call the horses to halt behind them. Leah glanced over her shoulder, though she couldn’t make out the crest on the side. “Overton again?” she asked.
Christine shook her head. “No, Mrs. Thompson finished with him. Trahern, most likely.”
Leah arched a brow and turned around. “Trahern? I thought she despised him.”
“Maybe so, but he’s quite easy on the eye. And there’s no need to talk when they’re in bed.”
“Christine Farrell. How deceitful that innocent appearance is.”
Christine laughed quietly. “Hush, now. I’ve tried very hard to—”
“Leah?” A man’s voice called her name. “Mrs. George?”
A voice that had become as familiar as Ian’s once was. A voice that, in truth, she never thought to hear again. Leah paused midstep, her gaze pinned on the street ahead.
Christine wasn’t as discreet. She looked behind again. “Leah,” she whispered. “It’s the man from the carriage. Not Trahern. He’s looking at you.”
“Yes, I know,” she answered, uncertain whether she wanted to turn around. “Lord Wriothesly.”
“You know him, then?”
“He—he was friends with my husband.”
“Oh. Well, he’s coming this way.”
Leah swallowed. Indeed, she could hear his footsteps, so sure and steady, purposeful. Only she had no idea why he would seek her out, not after he’d said he would never acknowledge her again.
“Good day,” he said.
Christine swung around to face him, bending in a low curtsy. “My lord.”
“And good day to you, Mrs. George. I’m not mistaken, am I? It is you?”
Leah slowly turned toward him, lifting her chin and her pride along with it. She didn’t bother to curtsy. “What do you want?”
Christine smothered a gasp.
Leah didn’t know what she expected Sebastian to do; she wanted to make him angry, or see him put on a show of arrogance at the public slight. Anything to keep him from witnessing the vulnerability that had suddenly surfaced upon hearing his voice, the pleasure that nearly stole her breath at seeing him again.
Oh, but how she wanted to drown in his gaze, to bury herself against him as his green eyes roved over her face. He was handsome, terribly so, taller than she remembered and very well-dressed. The fine fit of his gray trousers and jacket, the silken cloth of his navy waistcoat, all served to remind her of the present differences in their stations. He was still a lord, an earl, but she was no longer a lady.
Leah glanced away. Surely he wouldn’t be able to see that she’d once been weak. That once she’d walked Minnie to the park across from his London town house and stood watching it for what seemed like hours. Knowing he wouldn’t be there, but wishing he was all the same.
“Mrs. George.”
She couldn’t help but look at him. She wanted him to treat her coldly, to give her a greater reason than the ones she’d created to dismiss him from her memory. But he had to be contrary. Instead of frowning or glaring at her, he smiled.
“I’d like to speak to you for a moment.” With a courteous nod at Christine, he added, “Privately.”
Leah crossed her arms. “You may speak now. But please make it short. We were headed for the shops.”
He inclined his head, his mouth still curved at the ends. “As you wish.” Then he stepped forward, took one of her hands, looked into her eyes, and said, “Mrs. George, would you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Chapter 16
Meet me on Thursday afternoon at 2 o’clock, near the watches.
Leah jerked her hand out of his grip. “Christine, would you mind—”
“Not at all. I will see you before Mrs. Campbell’s dinner.” The lady’s maid turned and began to walk in the direction of the shops by herself. Very slowly, Leah noticed. No doubt she hoped to eavesdrop.
Leah stared up at Sebastian, searching his expression for some hint of what he was thinking. His green eyes returned her stare, undaunted, humorless. He’d asked her to marry him, and he’d meant it. “I don’t understand. You want to marry me?”
“Shall we take a walk in the park together?” he asked, gesturing across the street.
Numbed and bewildered, she nodded her head and allowed him to escort her to the park, where they began walking along the path. “I don’t want to marry you,” she said, her voice low, her heart secretly pounding.
“Yes, I’m not surprised,” he answered, sounding remarkably cheerful, as if her response didn’t deter him for a moment. “However, something has happened which necessitates my request.”
She looked at him. He walked easily along the path, his frame relaxed, his eyes focused on the trees ahead. Only the firmness of his jaw betrayed any anxiety on his part. “Are you aware that, since your actions at the country house party, rumors have been circulating that you and I are having an affair?”
Heat trailed into her cheeks as she remembered his kiss in the garden, and she turned her head away. “Yes.”
“And are you also aware that, more recently, rumors of Ian and Angela’s affair have surfaced?”
Leah stumbled, and Sebastian reached over, his grip warm on her upper arm as he steadied her. “No, my lord, I didn’t realize . . .”
“I warned you, didn’t I?” he asked quietly, his hand slow to remove itself from her person.
Leah lifted her chin. “There is a possibility the rumors would have begun regardless of anything I did.”
“Yes, you’re correct. It is possible. But unlikely.”
“If you please, my lord, I’m not in the mood to be scolded. Tell me why you asked to marry me so I can refuse and we may go our separate ways once again.”
“I believe the best chance we have of silencing the rumors about Ian and Angela is to redirect the gossipmongers back in our direction. Allow them to believe that we are lovers, and confirm that belief by marrying. If all goes well, they will stop speculating about Ian and Angela and focus all of their attention on us, until eventually we will be rid of those rumors as well.”
“If the talk has already begun, my lord, why not allow it to run its course? Is your pride so very great that you cannot stand to be thought of as a cuckold? Are you trying to protect Angela?” Leah hesitated, then continued, her heart quickening. “Are you still in love with her?”
He looked at her, his expression grim. “You’ve left out the greatest reason,” he said.
He hadn’t answered her question about Angela. “And what reason is that?”
“Henry.”
“Oh.” Leah started. “Of course. But you must believe me, Sebastian—he looks like you. I can’t believe that he’s not your son.”
Sebastian nodded without acknowledging her words. “I want to protect him at all costs.”
“Even if you believe your best option is to marry me.” Leah watched one of the last remaining leaves of the season drift to the ground. “I’m sorry, my lord, but agreeing to marriage seems wholly unnecessary. Henry is a wonderful little boy, but—”
“He also . . . needs a mother.”
And just like that, he pulled one of the strings on her heart, causing it to shudder and jerk and dance inside her chest all at once. “Here’s another possibility, my lord. Find someone else to marry. It will end the rumors about us having an affair, might also end the rumors of Ian and Angela, and also provide Henry a new mother. There’s no need for me to be involved.”
“Your sister told me that you’ve become Mrs. Campbell’s companion.”
“Ah. Beatrice. I’d wondered how you found me.” A vendor pushing his cart passed them along the path, his back bowed.
“Do you enjoy walking her dog?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Minnie is quite enjoyable company.” She said this in such a way that he’d have to be daft not to understand the inference that in contrast, his company was not so pleasant.
“At Linley Park you spoke of freedom and independence. I can’t imagine you have much of either here, being summoned here and ordered there at the whim of your mistress, someone to whom you’re actually more than an equal.”
Leah smiled. “If you’re trying to convince me that I would have more independence as a married woman, my lord, please do not trouble yourself. I’m well aware of the shackles that brings.”
“I would allow you—”
“Precisely. You would ‘allow’ me. Does that not imply that you would be my master, and my independence would be dependent upon your wishes entirely?”
His lips pressed together. “I will phrase it another way, then. If you were to marry me and become Henry’s mother, your only requirement would be to see to his maternal needs. Otherwise, you would be free to do as you wish. Go riding, practice your archery, go boating, walk in the garden at midnight. Whatever pleases you.”
“And if I wished to never see you?” she asked. Not because she was considering his proposal. Simply because she was curious to see how far he would take the conversation.
“We might go on outings together with Henry, but otherwise, there is no need for you to suffer my company.” He paused, then turned to her with a small smile. “Or I yours.”
Leah couldn’t help smiling a little back at him.
Abruptly, Sebastian looked ahead again. “And because it needs to be said,” he continued, “that would include any interactions which might be expected to occur in the bedchamber.”
Leah swallowed. “You mean you would not require a consummation?”
“No.”
“You wouldn’t wish to engage in marital relations.”
“No.”
“Our marriage would be in name only? If neither of us dies early and we are married for the next thirty years, you would never try to bed me?”
She thought she heard him choke. “No.”
“You would take a mistress, then.”
He glanced at her, his gaze sharp, the grooves at the edges of his mouth deep. “I will be loyal to you.”
Leah laughed, although there was no joy in the sound. “Come, my lord. You mean to tell me that you would remain celibate for the rest of your life, if only I would agree to marry you?”
His green gaze, so deep and intense, darkened. “I will be celibate for as long as you wish it. Until you decide that you want me in your bed.”
Her throat thickened, tightened. She tried to laugh again, but the sound came out hoarse and strained. “How confident you are, my lord. But what if, by chance, I never desire you? Indeed, what if I find someone else I wish to take to my bed?”
“We have both experienced the pain of adulterous spouses. Even if ours is not a love match, if you cannot commit to faithfulness now, then there is no need to continue having this discussion.”
“I don’t want to marry you,” she repeated. And yet this time it left her lips as a whisper, as if uncertain.
He stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face her. He didn’t take her hand again, or come close, but they were alone, the distant sounds of the city surrounding them but not interfering. Leah resisted the urge to step back, to escape the moment of intimacy.
“Then allow me to tell you why I want to marry you, Leah.”
Not Mrs. George, but Leah. How she’d missed hearing her name on his lips. She shouldn’t have missed it at all.
“I know why you want to marry me. To redirect the scandal.”
“Yes.”
“To have a mother for Henry.”
He inclined his head. “Yes. And as you told me, I might find any other woman to help me do the same. But I want to marry you, Leah George, not someone else. You see, I’ve become rather accustomed to your smile. Even if it angers me when I’m so determined to be miserable. And I’ve grown to anticipate your devilish antics—it seems I like watching you enjoy your freedom as much as you like exploring it. You already know Henry. I’ve seen you interact with him before, and I believe the relationship between the two of you could quickly develop into something more. And . . .”
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