Page 21 of A Beguiled Gentleman (The Bradley Brothers #1)

Chapter 21

Noah laid awake in his bed most of the night. It was possible he drifted off to sleep momentarily, but much of his memory was the view of his ceiling as he replayed the moment over in his mind. He felt physically ill every time he remembered Hannah’s face after she kissed him. The look of her knowing how he felt before he even said it. How could he not have realized how she felt before? Were there clues to her feelings, and he had just not paid attention to them? For she had said from the beginning that she wasn’t looking for anything romantic. Only a friend. And he wasn’t ready to let that friendship go. Hannah meant so much to him.

Noah closed his eyes and let his mind wander. A picture formed—Hannah walking up to him with a smile on her face, the wind whipping her red hair about—and he let the moment play out as if he returned her feelings. A brush of her hand on his chest, her lips gently pressing to his . . .

And then he was rudely interrupted as a knock sounded on his door.

“Yes?” Noah practically moaned. He really needed to get some sleep.

“A note for you, sir,” Egerton’s familiar voice said through the wood.

Noah sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed as he rubbed the sleep from his face. Or, rather, the lack of sleep. “You can bring it in, Egerton.”

The older man entered, depositing the paper on the night table and leaving without a word.

Noah leaned over, taking the note and unfolding it. It was a dinner invitation from his parents. Apparently they had a small surprise and wished for him to attend that evening.

The last thing Noah needed was more surprises, but he sat at his table by the window and scratched out his acceptance anyway. Perhaps it would be good to get out and be with people so his mind could focus on something other than Hannah and what he was going to do about the mess he’d made of things.

Little did Hannah know that had been his first kiss, and he didn’t even have the mental capability to enjoy it, so shocked as he was.

He ran a hand over his face before looking out his window. Was his heart healed enough to move on?

Noah strode into his parents’ home, nodding at the footman as he passed. Donald flashed by in the hall, likely heading to the study, and Noah went to follow—until murmurs in the drawing room caught his attention.

“Ah, there he is,” his mother’s familiar voice said.

Noah stopped, turning toward the open door. “Hello, Mother. Do you need me for something? I was just about to speak with Donald.”

“Yes, I do actually.” She strode over to him in the entry, taking his arm and pulling him back with her. “We have some special guests this evening. Your father has returned from London.”

“That is very good.” Noah patted her hand. “I was a bit nervous when you were being so cagey.”

“Well, there is another surprise.” She smiled up at him, and Noah watched her with curious eyes as they entered the drawing room.

“Another?” Noah asked.

“See for yourself,” she said, nodding her head toward the seating area.

He turned to look, and the room seemed to tilt on its axis. “Margaret?” Her name slipped from his lips as if none of this was quite real. But there she was, standing by his parents’ piano, flipping through sheets of music in an elegant ivory evening gown.

“The Lewistons decided to return home a week early. Your father had mentioned to Mr. Lewiston that he was missing home, and apparently they all were as well.”

Margaret turned from the piano, holding sheets of music in front of her. And then she smiled at him. “Lord Noah. How good to see you.”

Noah gave his head a hard shake, trying to find his voice. “Yes,” he said, then swallowed. “And you as well, Miss Lewiston.” His heart pounded, and he felt physically ill.

Lady Chatham released Noah’s arm with a coy smile playing about her lips as she strode over to Mrs. Lewiston. And then Margaret began to walk toward him.

Noah’s breathing increased, coming in shallow bursts. He looked around, hoping to find an escape—someone to talk to. Donald, his father, anyone, but all the men must have been somewhere else in the house.

Traitors.

So, when Noah wasn’t sure what else to do, he gave Margaret a small bow, his palms sweating. “Good evening.” His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He felt trapped.

Margaret smiled, shaking her head. “No need to be so formal, Noah.”

The night on the balcony flashed in his mind, and he nearly winced as she unknowingly threw his own words back at him. Had it really been two months since then?

“How would you prefer I refer to you then, Miss Lewiston?”

Her blonde hair was like a halo around her face, her posture regal, her smile perfectly rehearsed. “Why, Margaret, of course.”

Noah shifted on his feet, looking at the floor. Instead of referring to her again, he opted for a safe topic. The last thing he wished to do was stand there and make conversation as if nothing had happened. But what else was he to do? No one besides himself and Donald knew of her rejection, and he wanted to keep the peace between the families. “How was London?”

Margaret shook her head as she rolled her eyes. “It was smelly, dirty and the society was entirely lacking.”

“Really?” Noah asked, his head snapping up. “I am surprised.” Especially since she was so anxious to go and find a husband.

Margaret lifted her shoulders. “I do not know what all the fuss regarding London is about. I suppose the shows were entertaining and there were more balls to attend, but it lacked a certain warmth that Warthford has.”

“So you did not form any close friendships while you were there?”

Margaret sighed. “No, nothing that had the possibility to last. So we decided to come home to where our true friends are.” She gave him a warm smile as she placed her hand lightly on his arm. “It is so good to see you, Noah. It has been too long.”

Noah’s eyes fixated on where her hand touched him. “Do you have an announcement to make tonight?”

“An announcement?” she asked innocently. “Whatever would I be announcing?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He tried not to let sarcasm slip into his tone, but he failed. “An engagement perhaps?”

Margaret put a hand on her chest. “Nonsense. None of the men could compare to the men of Warthford.”

Noah’s eyes trailed up to hers. Was she being entirely serious? Did she really miss him while they were gone? Realize her feelings for him? He did not trust himself to make any decisions regarding emotions at the moment. Not after what happened with Margaret two months ago, nor after Hannah’s kiss last night. He clearly was not well-versed in the language of romance—or women.

“Miss Lewiston,” Noah began, “I fear I need to speak with my brother about the dower house. If you would please excuse me.” He nodded and turned to leave.

“Noah,” Margaret said, making him pause in his escape, “I hope to speak with you sometime in the coming weeks.”

Noah turned his head, but he didn’t look at her. He couldn’t even bring himself to respond—not even nod. All he could do was take another step toward the hall where he could try and sort out his thoughts and escape this nightmare.

All too soon, dinner was called, and Noah was forced to take Margaret by the arm and lead her into the dining room. It was hard to believe he had done this very thing dozens of times before for how foreign it felt at the moment.

He pulled her chair out, and just as she claimed her seat, she turned and gave him a smile. Noah drew in a slow breath, then forced himself to return his own sorry version of a smile before taking his seat beside her.

“So,” Margaret said, turning her head toward him, “what is the news in Warthford since I’ve been gone? Anything exciting?”

Noah ran his tongue over his teeth. “Nothing I think will entertain a lady who has just spent a season in London.”

“Nonsense. There must be something.” Margaret leaned back as the first course was set before her.

Did she not realize how inappropriate this was? She didn’t seem to think anything of her smiles and ordinary conversation, as if he hadn’t proposed and been rejected by her. She seemed perfectly at ease while he felt as if everything happening was merely a figment of his imagination. Maybe it was and he had finally fallen asleep after being up all night thinking about Hannah.

“Noah?”

Margaret’s voice reminded him that this was very much real and not a dream, no matter how much he might wish it was.

He took a long drink from his glass, then set it down and wiped his mouth. “There is a new family in town.”

“Oh?” She cocked her head to the side. “How refreshing. It is always stimulating to have new company.”

Except the new company in London, apparently.

“Yes, the Gibbons,” Noah continued. He kept his eyes on his food.

“Gentry, I assume?”

“No, actually. Trade.”

Margaret’s head jerked toward him. “Really?”

“Well, it began with trade, but I believe they now live a life of leisure. Mr. Gibbons owns some land. Lovely people. My mother and Mrs. Gibbons have become good friends.”

Margaret leaned down and took a bite of soup, then dabbed her mouth with a napkin from her lap. “And do the Gibbons have any children?”

“Just one. Miss Hannah Gibbons. She is a couple years my junior.”

Margaret crossed her hands over her lap. “How nice. I should like to meet her. It is always good to have another young lady to visit with.”

Noah wondered just how much he should share, especially since he was on such unsure footing with Hannah at the moment. “Miss Gibbons is a lovely young woman. Anyone would enjoy her company.”

“Do you know her well?”

“I do.” And he left it at that, giving his focus to his meal. He would let Margaret make her own assumptions, for Noah hardly knew what to think of his and Hannah’s relationship himself. So how could he rightly explain it to her?

“Well, if you have found her worthy of friendship, then I’m sure I will as well, seeing how you and I are so alike.”

Noah nearly choked on his soup, and he covered his mouth as he gave a discreet cough. “Is that so?”

“Noah . . .” Margaret began, dipping her chin and lowering her voice.

“Father,” Noah called out. Margaret jerked beside him at his abrupt address. But Noah did not want to hear what Margaret had to say. And judging by the tone of her voice, she planned to say plenty.

Lord Chatham looked over from his conversation with Donald. “Yes, Noah?”

“Is there anything to report from the House of Lords?”

His father’s brow rose. It was not often that Noah inquired after political matters, but at the moment, anything sounded better than listening to Margaret. He wasn’t sure he could bear it, not when his mind and heart were such a muddled mess. Everything felt raw, and Noah wasn’t about to just continue on with Margaret as if nothing had changed between them.

A picture of red hair billowing in the wind, soft green eyes, and a genuine smile spreading across rosy lips crept into his mind. He would much rather Hannah be at the seat beside him than Margaret. Hannah would know what to say to make him feel better and lift his spirits. Only, he wasn’t sure Hannah would wish to see him at all after last night. The thought brought his mood even lower.

“So,” Lord Chatham continued, and Noah snapped his mind back to attention, “that was the biggest matter we discussed. I wasn’t entirely pleased with the choice that was made, but I put in my argument, and that was all I could do.”

Noah hadn’t heard a thing his father had said. Not a word of it. So, he did his best to appear interested and nodded. Noah would have to ask his father again later when he could actually give him his genuine attention.

“Noah,” his mother said from across the table. She was in her glory with her friend back at her side, all smiles and lively conversation. “Don’t you think that our Margaret would get along splendidly with Miss Gibbons?”

Noah’s mouth dropped open. Our Margaret? Would this night ever end? His eyes strayed to Margaret, who watched him with an expectant brow. “I . . .” Noah swallowed. “That will have to be decided by the ladies themselves.”

“I am sure we would get along,” Margaret intervened, lightly placing her hand on his forearm. It felt as if she was claiming him and Hannah in one swift motion. “If she is a friend of Noah, I am sure we would be a perfect match.”

Noah dipped his chin to his chest.

Heaven help him.