Page 16 of A Beguiled Gentleman (The Bradley Brothers #1)

Chapter 16

Noah left his study and its uniformly papered walls, pleased he had a meeting in a couple of hours. He was starting to feel a sense of accomplishment that he had never felt before. For it wasn’t his family who had made him succeed. It was him. And, truthfully, it was because of Hannah and her assurance that he was capable. What would he do without her?

Needing a bit of company, he went to the main house to find his mother having her afternoon tea.

“Good afternoon, Mother.” He smiled as he peered into the morning room. He strode over and sat before pouring himself a cup of the warm beverage, then used his free hand to place an entire biscuit in his mouth.

“Hungry?” Lady Chatham asked, her voice laced with humor.

“Ravenous.” He grabbed another pastry, filling his mouth with it as soon as he swallowed the last.

Lady Chatham took a quiet sip of tea, regarding him, before she placed the cup on her lap. “We are having a dinner party later this week, but before that I had hoped to get your thoughts on some guests for an upcoming ball.”

“Mine?” He glanced up from the tea tray where he was selecting yet another treat. “Any particular reason why?”

Lady Chatham pulled her mouth to the side, her gaze watchful. “Yes. I want to invite some eligible men for Miss Gibbons.”

Noah’s head jerked back as a scowl formed on his brow. “Why would you do that?”

“Well, I do not have any daughters of my own, and she is a worthy subject. She is lovely, both in the physical and personal sense. I want her to do well in life.”

“That is very kind of you.”

“I guess it is a bit selfish as well. I never had a daughter to introduce to society. This could be my way of doing so without stepping on anyone’s toes. I would choose someone else, but what with Margaret being in London . . .”

Noah’s heart clenched. He hadn’t mentioned to his parents anything regarding Margaret. And he wasn’t particularly keen on talking about it now. “Yes. She is very busy.” Noah gripped his chin between his thumb and finger. “Did you have anyone particular in mind for guests to this ball?”

She studied him before picking up a piece of foolscap from the settee beside her. “Yes, actually. I have Mr. Hodge at the top of the list—”

Noah laughed. Goodness, he shouldn’t have, and yet, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Not Mr. Hodge,” he finally said once he gathered his wits.

“Is something wrong with Mr. Hodge? He was my first choice.”

“No,” Noah said, briefly shaking his head. “He is only wrong for Ha—”

Lady Chatham’s eyes narrowed.

“—Miss Gibbons,” he finished.

“Well,” she said, scanning her list. “My next choice was Mr. Abbins.”

“Abbins?” Noah leaned forward, his mouth turned down at the corners. “Nonsense. He is nearly twice her age.”

“He is only thirty-six. That is not so very old,” his mother defended.

“No. Someone else.” He flicked his hand, dismissing her choice.

“All right. What of Mr. Sullyard? He is only twenty-six and has already inherited Rose Cottage from his father. It’s a wonder he hasn’t already married.”

“Sullyard.” Noah rolled the man’s name around in his mind, attempting to find a face. And then a man sporting brightly colored jackets with ruffled sleeves came to the forefront of his memory. “Sullyard?” he asked, incredulous. “Sullyard with the yellow jackets and jeweled fobs and lace cuffs?”

Lady Chatham huffed a breath. “I realize his choice of wardrobe is a bit . . . progressive . . . but he is perfectly acceptable. And I think Miss Gibbons would make him a nice match.”

“Yes, she would make him a nice match. But he would not suit her.”

“Very well. What of Lord Raynord?”

“Too old.”

“Mr. Swinton?”

“A notorious flirt.”

“Mr. Hosmer.”

“Too hairy.”

“Fine.” Lady Chatham put her list down and crossed her hands on her lap. “Then who would you suggest, Noah? For you are being entirely unhelpful. There are only so many eligible men that would be suitable.”

Noah stood and began pacing the length of the rug. “Why does Ha—” He stopped, anticipating the return of his mother’s narrowed gaze. “Miss Gibbons, need anyone ?”

“I know for a fact that her mother wants her married.”

Noah waved her off. “That does not mean Hannah needs to.” Another slip of the tongue. And judging by his mother’s pause, she heard it as well.

“Noah, I do not believe you understand the gravity of her situation.”

He shook his head. “She is not in danger of becoming a spinster.”

“No, but if she does not choose for herself, her parents might choose for her. She will not reach her majority for another year.”

Noah’s feet halted and he turned toward her. “They wouldn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Because she is their daughter!”

“And they want what is best for her.”

“No, they want what is best for them, and that’s the dirty, rotten truth of it all.” His pacing resumed. “She deserves someone perfect for her, and none of those men fit the bill. She will simply wait until the correct man comes along.”

Lady Chatham stood, so Noah stopped and waited.

“The best way for that to happen is for her to meet as many men as possible. And how can she do that if you keep all of her time to yourself?”

Noah saw the censure in her eyes—heard the faint warning in her words. “She is my friend. What is so wrong with spending time with her?”

“Because she is a young lady, and she might have already formed expectations of you.”

“Nonsense. Hannah doesn’t feel that way for me.”

“Oh? You know this for a fact?”

He jutted out his chin. “Yes.”

She spun about, taking her list from the settee and folding it up as she turned back to him. “Then you will have no objection to me inviting all of these men for a ball in two weeks’ time.”

It wasn’t a question.

“She would hate it,” Noah insisted.

Lady Chatham’s eyes softened, and her shoulders lost a bit of their rigid stance. “I will discuss the idea with Mrs. Gibbons over dinner this week. I think it will be good for everyone.” She turned, gathering a few more papers she had strewn about and tucking them under her arm. “Unless you have other plans regarding Miss Gibbons?” she asked, her back still to him.

His confusion mounted. It was as if his mother was speaking in riddles. “I just want her to be happy.”

She bobbed her head. “Very well. In two weeks we shall have the grandest ball I have hosted in years.”

Lady Chatham left the room, and Noah fell back into his seat.

What had all that been about?