Page 5 of An Alliance with the Earl (Marrying for Love #5)
CHAPTER FIVE
E dward took his seat at the dinner table and immediately regretted it.
To his right sat Miss Jane Cox, a young lady of undeniably charming features, yet one who still possessed an unfortunate penchant for giggling at the slightest provocation. To his left was Lady Catherine, whose relentless coquetry would have made even the most practiced rake wary.
As the first course was served—a delicate consommé with tiny pearls of carrot and herbs floating in the golden broth—Edward braced himself for what he was certain would be an arduous meal.
“Oh, Lord Cheshire,” Miss Cox began, fluttering her lashes as she dipped her spoon into her soup. “I have always been told that gentlemen with the highest titles also possess the most discerning palates. Tell me, is the fare here to your satisfaction?”
Edward, who had never given much thought to the taste of consommé beyond the fact that it was warm and edible, gave her a pleasant smile. “Miss Cox, I must confess that I have never been known to wax poetic over soup, though I daresay it is not a fault I am likely to remedy anytime soon.”
Lady Catherine tittered, leaning toward him with a knowing smile. “You are being modest, my lord. You must know that everyone in Town speaks of your impeccable taste—whether in dining, fashion, or—” she let the pause stretch just enough to make her meaning clear “—company.”
Edward lifted a brow. “Do they indeed? I shall have to find these individuals and correct them, for I am quite certain I have been misrepresented. My reputation for taste is, at best, undeserved.”
Miss Cox giggled behind her gloved hand. “Oh, you are dreadfully wicked, Lord Cheshire! Tell us, what is your preference? Surely there must be some quality you most admire in a lady.”
He set his spoon down, affecting a contemplative air. “Hmm… let me think.” He paused. If William were here, he would jest that he was partial to a woman who could remain silent for a full minute. But in the present company, he didn’t think his joke would be taken well. But giving any kind of true information to these two on such a subject would likely be disastrous for him for the rest of the house party. He did not want to tell others the qualities he really admired, only to have them feign such qualities in his presence. With perfect seriousness, he declared to the two porcelain-skinned women next to him, “I have always been rather partial to a woman who has freckles.”
Miss Cox’s eyes widened as though she were trying to determine if he was jesting. Lady Catherine pouted.
“Oh, you are teasing us terribly,” Miss Cox chided, pressing a hand to his sleeve.
He smiled. “I never tease, Miss Cox. It is unbecoming of an earl.”
Across the table, Lady Olivia brought a napkin to her lips and snorted, but covered the sound quickly. She looked up from her plate and caught Edward’s gaze, her light brown eyes alight with amusement. He could see the corners of her lips twitching as she smothered a knowing smile. Unlike his dinner companions, she seemed to have no difficulty discerning that he was playing at insincere responses to escape further interrogation. She turned back to her dinner partner, Baron Iverson, and answered his question.
He watched as she interacted with her dinner partners on either side of her. She looked as if she was enjoying herself, which was more than he could boast at the moment.
As the courses progressed—a fine fillet of sole in a butter sauce, a tender slice of roasted pheasant with a blackberry glaze, and an array of delicacies for dessert—Edward suffered through a relentless onslaught of compliments, suggestive glances, and insipid conversation. By the time the last plates were cleared, he could not have been more relieved.
The gentlemen did not linger over port that evening, a fact for which Edward was profoundly grateful. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he made his way into the drawing room, where the ladies had already gathered.
He found Lady Olivia seated near the fireplace, her hands folded neatly in her lap, conversing with Lady Lansdowne. As he approached, Lady Lansdowne rose to join another group, leaving Lady Olivia alone just as he reached her side.
“Lady Olivia,” he greeted with a bow.
She looked up at him, her expression both knowing and amused. She stood and curtsied. “Lord Cheshire. I trust you managed to survive your dinner companions?” She took her seat again.
Edward sat down heavily in the seat beside her and sighed dramatically. “Barely.”
“I must say, my lord,” Lady Olivia murmured, “your ability to endure the enthusiastic attentions of your dining companions is admirable. You only looked put out twice.”
Edward glanced at her, catching the mischievous glint in her gaze.
“Endurance is one of my greatest virtues,” he replied in a dry tone. “I should hope to have it inscribed upon my tombstone one day: Here lies Edward, Earl of Cheshire, most enduring of gentlemen.”
Lady Olivia finally allowed a laugh to escape, soft yet entirely genuine. It was music to Edward’s tired ears.
He lowered his voice. “Tell me, how did you fare?”
“Not much better, I’m afraid,” she admitted. “Though, unlike yourself, I am not the object of relentless pursuit.”
Edward chuckled, genuinely amused. “You are quite fortunate, then. I should think it a blessing to be free from giggling and feigned helplessness.”
Lady Olivia tilted her head slightly, considering him. “And yet, you endured it admirably. One might even say with grace.”
“Obliviousness,” he corrected her. “It is a most effective tool.”
She laughed again, and Edward found that he rather liked the sound. Not overly loud, not forced. Simply natural.
His expression turned more serious. “I had hoped to speak with you, but not here. Not where we might be overheard.”
Her brows lifted. “That sounds intriguing, my lord. Surely I am not about to be drawn into something scandalous?”
“You wish for something not scandalous?” He smiled—she was an anomaly again. He creased his eyebrows in mock offense. “Well you’re no fun at all.”
She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before speaking. “Very well. I can see you are teasing me. Where do you propose we speak freely? Leaving the drawing room at present would attract a lot of attention that could lead to a scandal.”
He chuckled. “I should never suggest such a thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “I plan to be in the moonflower garden in the early morning.”
“The moonflower garden again?”
“Yes. I fear my sketches from this afternoon are woefully inaccurate, and I should like to capture them when the flowers are fully open.”
Edward lifted his brows, appraising her with fresh interest. “You sketch? You are full of surprises, Lady Olivia.”
She smiled, appearing pleased by the remark. “It is one of my favorite pastimes.”
“You must have a talent for it then,” he said with admiration.
“You speak flattery, Lord Cheshire. I do not fall for such things. One cannot always equate enjoyment with talent, after all. But I do enjoy the activity. I plan to spend as much of the morning hour before the moonflowers close for the day.”
He inclined his head. “Would it be an imposition if I joined you? I can assure you, my presence would not interfere with your work. I merely require a moment of your time.”
She studied him carefully, as if measuring the sincerity of his request. Then, with the faintest smile, she nodded. “I suppose I cannot refuse such an intriguing request. Very well, Lord Cheshire. I shall see you in the morning.”
Satisfied, Edward took her hand and, as was custom, pressed a brief kiss to her gloved fingers. The gesture was meant to be formal, a mark of respect, yet as his lips grazed the fabric, he was struck by a peculiar awareness of her presence—of the slight tremor of her hand, the warmth of her skin beneath the glove.
Before he could consider it further, the moment was interrupted as Lady Lansdowne called for the evening’s entertainments to commence.
For the remainder of the evening, they were pulled into various games, both parlor and card. Edward found himself seated at a whist table, yet his thoughts remained preoccupied with the arrangement he had just made.
Lady Olivia Westfield was proving to be far more interesting than he had anticipated. She was not a simpering debutante, nor was she easily flustered. She had wit, intelligence, and a manner that was refreshingly direct.
And in the morning, he would have her attention entirely to himself.
As the clock chimed the hour, Edward realized that he was, for the first time since arriving at this infernal house party, genuinely looking forward to something.
Edward had been walking Ivy Manor’s grounds for nearly an hour. He had arrived early—perhaps too early to meet Lady Olivia—but he found he did not mind the solitude of the estate’s sprawling gardens. The air was cool, carrying the lingering chill of the night, and a soft mist curled around the hedgerows and statues like spectral ribbons.
Overhead, the moon still reigned in the sky, pale and luminous, though the horizon had begun to blush with the first tentative strokes of dawn.
The gardens, bathed in this silvery half-light, felt almost unearthly. The gravel paths gleamed with moisture, and the tall yews stood in silent sentry, their dark shapes softened by the veil of fog.
But it was the moonflowers that captured his attention. Clusters of them, their delicate white petals unfurled in full bloom, shimmered like scattered pearls in the gray dawn. Each blossom was bigger than his open hand. Their waxen blossoms reflected the moonlight, glowing faintly as though lit from within, their fragrance—light and faintly sweet—drifting on the damp air.
Edward paused near one of the flowerbeds, watching as a tendril of mist curled over the blooms before dissipating like breath upon glass. It was a quiet, enchanted hour, the kind that made the world feel suspended between night and day, between dream and waking. And for a moment, he allowed himself to simply be—a solitary figure amidst the hush of nature, as the earth stirred gently from its slumber.
He hoped Lady Olivia would appear soon so that she would be able to see the beautiful sight he’d been privileged to witness. He had never considered himself a particularly impatient man, yet as time stretched on, he became increasingly aware of the quiet anticipation that had settled within him.
The Moonflower Garden was secluded, bordered by towering hedges and a scattering of trees that shielded it from the rest of the estate. The fountain at its center trickled a steady stream of water, its surface shimmering under the morning light. The air was crisp, the scent of damp earth and faint traces of lavender lingering from the nearby hothouse. Birds flitted between the branches above, their songs blending with the rustling leaves.
And then Lady Olivia arrived. She stepped lightly onto the gravel pathway, her small sketchbook clutched in her hands. Edward did not immediately make himself known, watching as she moved with unhurried grace toward one of the stone benches nestled between the flowerbeds. The mist curled around her hem as she walked, its ghostly tendrils parting in her wake.
She wore a gown of deep blue, a hue somewhere between twilight and midnight, the rich fabric subtly embroidered with fine silver thread along the hem and sleeves, as if the night sky itself had been stitched into its design.
When she lowered herself onto the bench, the delicate folds of her gown settled neatly around her, the soft fabric catching the pale morning light.
A lighter blue pelisse draped over her shoulders, the woolen weave tailored to fit snugly at her waist before flaring out slightly, the collar and cuffs trimmed with a delicate row of ivory lace. Though practical for the cool morning, the ensemble did not diminish her elegance but rather enhanced it—quiet, effortless, unassuming.
The first faint rays of the rising sun crept over the treetops, catching the golden undertones of her honey-blonde hair, turning the loosely gathered curls into threads of spun light. A few unruly wisps had escaped their confines, resting against her cheek, and Edward found his gaze lingering there longer than he intended. She did not seem to notice the way the dawn adorned her, nor how the shifting light softened the delicate lines of her face—her fine, arching brows, the gentle curve of her cheek, the thoughtful purse of her lips.
Her expression was one of deep concentration as she opened her sketchbook, her fingers moving with an unconscious grace as she traced the outline of something upon the page. Her hands, small and deft, were sure in their strokes, and for a moment, Edward found himself inexplicably curious—what did she see, what was she capturing?
He told himself it was only curiosity that held him still, that made him watch her with such quiet intent. And yet, there was something about the way the morning framed her, the way she existed so naturally within this moment, that unsettled him in a way he did not quite understand.
For a man who prided himself on his certainty, Edward found he did not like the feeling of not knowing. For a moment, he considered leaving her undisturbed. She was entirely at ease, lost in her quiet world of graphite and paper. Yet as he shifted his footing, a twig snapped beneath his boot.
Lady Olivia startled, her pencil pausing mid-stroke.
Edward stepped forward, clearing his throat lightly. “My apologies, Lady Olivia. It was not my intention to startle you.”
She turned, and upon recognizing him, a warm smile curved her lips. “Lord Cheshire. I wondered if you might come.”
He gestured to the empty space beside her. “May I join you?”
She scooted to one side, making room for him. “Of course.”
He lowered himself onto the bench, turning toward her as she resumed her sketch. The light breeze stirred a few wisps of hair loose from her coiffure, and he found himself momentarily distracted by the way the golden morning light softened her features.
He cleared his throat.
Lady Olivia looked up from her sketch of the fountain, a question in her light brown eyes.
Edward swallowed. “I shall get straight to the point,” he said at last, drawing his attention back to the matter at hand. “I would not wish to take up your time while you are here to draw.”
She tilted her head, her lips curving with amusement. “That would be most agreeable, my lord. Please, proceed.”
Edward clasped his hands together. “I ask you—would you like to make this house party the best it can be, enjoy all the games and activities, without any of the pressure?”
She lifted a delicate brow. “Is such a thing possible?”
He allowed a slow smile. “It is, if we are clever. And I have devised a way.”
She set her sketchbook aside, turning her full attention to him now. “I am intrigued.”
He leaned slightly forward. “I propose we make an alliance.”
Her brows knitted together in confusion. “An alliance?”
“No doubt in the next day or two, Lady Lansdowne will cease her forceful pairing of guests as people begin forming their own preferences. But if we act swiftly, we can take matters into our own hands. I propose that we pretend to form a match with each other.”
Her lips parted slightly in surprise. “You are mad.”
Edward chuckled. “Possibly. But consider it—your chaperone requires you to make an effort, does she not? If you show preference for me, she will give you more space, more freedom. And if I show preference for you, I shall no longer be forced into the company of incessant gigglers.”
Lady Olivia pressed her fingers to her lips, her eyes dancing with amusement. “And I suppose,” she mused, “that my brother will receive a glowing report that I am fulfilling my end of our arrangement.”
“Precisely,” Edward said with satisfaction.
She studied him for a long moment. “You would do this for me?”
He nodded. “We would both be doing this for each other. It would be a mutual alliance, not a favor or charity. You have proven to be a companion whose company I enjoy.”
She exhaled, shaking her head in mild disbelief. “I have no wish to marry—I plan to travel the Continent.”
“And that,” Edward said, “is what makes this arrangement so perfect. It suits both of us. When this house party concludes, you will depart on your travels, and our attachment will naturally dissolve without consequence. No one will be the wiser. Lady Lansdowne will believe I am nursing a broken heart and will cease inviting me to such gatherings. You will be far away, and your reputation will remain untarnished.”
She let out a soft laugh. “You have thought through every detail.”
Edward nodded. “It has occupied my thoughts since the archery tournament. But I wished to seek your approval before I approached Lady Lansdowne to insist that I be exclusively paired with you for every remaining activity.”
A small smile touched her lips. “You are a most generous friend to do me such a service. I would not know how to thank you.”
“Nonsense. It is no service, we have already agreed. It is a mutual alliance to thwart the conniving individuals in our lives who would force us into a matrimonial state before we are ready.”
Lady Olivia laughed, a warm, lilting sound. “I believe I shall agree to such an arrangement. But I do have one concern.”
“Do tell.”
“You spoke of a heartbreak.” She eyed him skeptically. “I have no wish to cause distress to anyone, even if it is feigned.”
Edward placed a hand over his chest with an exaggerated sigh. “Lady Olivia, I assure you, I am an excellent actor. We are both playing a role. It will be perfect. There is no hidden agenda.”
“Except for our mutually hidden agenda that we are hiding from the rest of the house party.”
“Except for that,” he conceded.
She shook her head, amused. “If we pretend to be utterly smitten with each other, I believe that our ruse could be found out.”
“How do you mean?” He leaned slightly closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “I believe I shall surprise you, Lady Olivia. I shall focus my attention solely upon you and ignore every simpering debutante in the room.”
She arched a brow. “You will miss those giggles.”
“I shall find a way to make you laugh instead.”
She laughed again, and Edward found himself wholly satisfied. “A far superior sound. Your laugh is not grating in the least,” he said approvingly.
Lady Olivia shook her head. “My concern is that it may not be perceived as genuine. My chaperone might suspect if we are pretending to be utterly smitten with each other. I do not think she would believe that I could change my mind and my heart so quickly.”
Edward nodded. “I can see your wisdom in not overdoing our play acting. Very well. We will not be overly flirtatious, to avoid any scandal, of course.”
She smiled. “Of course.”
“We do not need to act as if we are madly falling in love, only that we are interested in getting to know one another better. Lady Lansdowne would likely see through the ruse as well. I have no desire for her to call me a liar. Again.”
Lady Olivia raised an eyebrow. “I believe there is a story behind your comment, Lord Cheshire.”
Edward waved his hand in the air. “I may have told my fair share of half-truths when I was a boy. Thankfully, I’ve outgrown the habit. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
Edward shrugged. “No one is perfect, Lady Olivia. But please do not hold that against me. It was a very long time ago. And as I recall, I probably had a decent reason for not sharing the entirety of the truth.”
“So long as you have mended your ways, I am content. It shall not dissuade me from our alliance.”
He nodded. “You find me someone you may tolerate for the remainder of the house party?” he asked.
He was teasing her, but she met his gaze with a sincerity that startled even himself. “You are a gentleman of character, intelligent and kind. I daresay it will not be difficult for me to convince the others that I am entirely captivated by the most eligible bachelor here.”
“That will be just the key to keeping the rest of the women at bay.”
She blinked, as if momentarily caught off guard. Then she smiled. “My chaperone will be most delighted. I will almost feel guilty for how she shall take the news when we break our arrangement.”
Edward shrugged. “Let us not think of that yet. We still have a fortnight to figure out the rest of the details.”
“Then I suppose we have an agreement, Lord Cheshire.” She extended her hand.
He took her hand, shaking it as if they were making a business deal. He could feel the warmth of her fingers through her lace gloves. He cleared his throat. “May I see your sketch before I go and find Lady Lansdowne?”
She smiled. “I normally do not show my work to others. My drawings feel almost like a journal.”
“I should not wish to impose then,” he said, standing.
“But as we are allies, perhaps I shall show it to you.” She turned her sketchbook toward him. The fountain and moonflowers had already taken shape.
“You are quite fast at sketching,” he said.
She shook her head. “This is what I drew from memory last evening. I am determined to get it right though.”
“I believe I may now say with full knowledge that you have a beautiful talent,” he said.
A hint of color came into her cheeks. “You are generous in your compliments, my lord.”
“Perhaps I am, but I only speak the truth.”
“Except for that time when you were a boy—with Lady Lansdowne, though I do not know the particulars.”
He laughed. “Except for that time. But with you, I commit to always tell the truth. And you have an eye for the art. I should not wish to distract you any longer from your sketching time.” He bowed to her. “If you will excuse me, I will return to the house and see if I can find Lady Lansdowne before she has her matchmaking list assembled for the day.”
Lady Olivia’s eyes were bright with curiosity. “Do you believe she actually notates those things on paper?”
Edward nodded. “Of course I do. She is the most brilliant at her art and skill in matchmaking. But I have no doubt that she keeps a most meticulous list.”
“I wish you the best of luck as you speak with her. I shall look forward to what she says.”
“As do I.” Edward took Lady Olivia’s hand in his, pressing a brief, gentlemanly kiss against the soft lace of her glove. “To our alliance, Lady Olivia.”
She laughed lightly. “To our alliance.”
And with that, the pact was made.
Edward strode through the halls of Ivy Manor, his boots tapping against the polished wood floors with a steady rhythm. His plan was a solid one, he was sure of it—logical and beneficial to both himself and Lady Olivia. And yet, as he approached the morning room where Lady Lansdowne was known to take tea and oversee the daily activities, a strange unease settled in his chest.
This was the only way forward.
As he stepped through the doorway, he found Lady Lansdowne seated in a floral-patterned chair near the window, a fine porcelain cup poised in her hand. Sunlight streamed in from the large windows, casting a golden glow upon the lace shawl draped over her shoulders. A basket of correspondence lay beside her, no doubt filled with letters from eager mothers requesting invitations for their unmarried daughters to her exclusive house parties.
She glanced up at him, her sharp, knowing gaze settling upon him before he had even announced his intentions.
“Ah, Lord Cheshire,” she said with the air of one who had been expecting him. “What brings you here so early? If you are seeking breakfast, I am afraid you will have to wait.”
Edward bowed lightly. “No, my lady, I am quite satisfied on that account. Rather, I wished to speak with you regarding the pairing arrangements for the upcoming days.”
Lady Lansdowne took a delicate sip of her tea before setting the cup down upon its saucer. She folded her hands over her lap, surveying him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “I see. And what, pray, is the nature of this request?”
Edward squared his shoulders, prepared to deliver his argument with careful precision. “I would like to request that Lady Olivia and I be paired together exclusively for the remainder of the house party.”
Lady Lansdowne’s brows lifted a fraction. “Exclusively?”
“Yes.”
A pause. Then, she exhaled a soft hum, neither approval nor refusal. “I must say, Lord Cheshire, I do find it delightful when my guests come to their senses on their own, rather than requiring my intervention. I always have a sense about these things when I am putting together my guest list for each particular house party.”
Edward nearly sighed in relief, but then her gaze sharpened, and he realized she was not so easily convinced.
She continued, “However, it is a little early in the house party for official pairings. I should not wish for you to neglect other possible opportunities with other guests.”
Edward stiffened. “I assure you, I am very happy in my choice.”
She tapped her finger against the arm of her chair. “Lady Catherine Haddington has expressed great interest in you.”
Suppressing a grimace, Edward folded his arms behind his back, his expression neutral. “Lady Catherine is charming, to be sure …”
“Except?”
“Except I find the sound of forced laughter at every observation rather difficult to endure. It is especially true when the observations were in no way meant to be amusing.”
A knowing gleam entered Lady Lansdowne’s eyes. “Ah. And you do not find such behavior in Lady Olivia?”
Edward hesitated before answering. “Lady Olivia is different.”
A smirk played at the corner of Lady Lansdowne’s lips. “Different, you say?”
“She is a most agreeable companion,” he admitted. “I appreciated her company far more than any other I have been paired with since yesterday.”
“That alone is not enough to justify exclusive pairings,” Lady Lansdowne countered smoothly. “It merely suggests I should pair you with more ladies, so you might compare their merits.”
Edward inwardly cursed his misstep. She would not make this easy. He adjusted his stance, choosing his words carefully. “Lady Lansdowne, I have no wish to create disarray among your guests. I know how much careful planning goes into these engagements.”
She gave a slow nod. “That is quite true.”
“However, I must be honest—I spent all of last evening thinking only of Lady Olivia.”
That, at least, was not a lie. The thought of the alliance had consumed his mind, and if it had not been for his conversation with Lady Olivia, he doubted he would have thought of any other guest at all.
“That is an excellent sign,” Lady Lansdowne said, smiling as if she were the cause of all that was good that came out of her house parties.
“So, do we have an agreement?”
Lady Lansdowne studied him for a long moment, then leaned forward. “Yes, but I should like for you to answer one final question before I give my complete consent.”
“Of course.”
“What do you know about Lady Olivia?”
“What do I know about her? In what way?
Lady Lansdowne smiled. “My dear, Edward. Attraction is a very important part of any marital relationship, but that alone cannot constitute success in a marriage.”
Attraction? Marriage? Edward felt as if there was not enough air in the large room for his lungs to take in. He had to keep his head on straight. Lady Lansdowne could be persuaded. He just had to find the right avenue. But her mention of things that he was trying to avoid threw his mind into the opposite direction. He cleared his throat. “I never said anything about that.” He stifled to get the words out.
Lady Lansdowne laughed. “Of course you didn’t, Edward. And you don’t have to. But I need to know that there is a connection between the two of you beyond just the superficial and the physical attraction.”
She wanted proof. That was what she was asking for. Proof that there was a reason for her to pair Edward with Lady Olivia. He just needed one thing. His mind caught on the way she looked this morning in the Moonflower Garden. She looked like a nymph, or maybe an angel though she hadn’t been dressed in white. Edward hesitated, then offered a small, knowing smile. “I know that she is an artist.”
Lady Lansdowne’s brows arched. “An artist?”
“She is in the moonflower garden at this very moment, sketching.”
Lady Lansdowne tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And how, may I ask, do you know this?”
“I took a morning stroll,” he answered smoothly, “and I saw her there.”
Lady Lansdowne gave him a pointed look. “A morning stroll? And did you just happen to stroll near enough to converse?”
Edward coughed lightly. “I may have startled her by stepping on a twig. I made myself known, and she was kind enough to allow me to see some of her sketches.”
Lady Lansdowne exhaled, shaking her head. “You know I do not approve of unchaperoned meetings.”
“I understand, and I won’t make it a habit.” He gave her one of his charming smiles. “I would have stayed longer, but I did not want to incur your wrath. Spending time in her company is something I should like to do more of. I feel that there is a … mutual understanding between the two of us—a type of shared bond already.”
Lady Lansdowne eyed him with an air of skepticism but made no further comment on the matter. Then her countenance changed and she was all smiles again—a self-congratulating smile. “You are quite taken with her, it seems.”
Edward straightened. “I find her to be a most pleasant companion, and I would very much like to spend more time in her company.”
Lady Lansdowne nodded slowly, tapping her fingers against the edge of the table. “I did notice there was a certain chemistry between you both during the archery tournament.”
Edward winced. “She is not a natural at archery.”
“You did a poor job of assisting her,” Lady Lansdowne remarked, a touch of amusement in her tone.
He resisted the urge to sigh. “I … did not want to overstep.”
“Well, next time, see that you do. She only needs a little guidance. I am sure you can do a much better job at instructing her.”
Edward exhaled through his nose. “Very well.” Then, after a pause, “Does this mean you will agree to pair us together?”
Lady Lansdowne considered him carefully. “I shall not prevent it. But I do not wish you to slight my other guests.”
“I would never be intentionally unkind.”
“And I will ensure that Lady Olivia has no objections,” she added. “I would not wish to force her into a pairing she did not wish for.”
Edward nodded, confident in Lady Olivia’s approval.
“Very well. For the next two days, I shall allow this arrangement,” Lady Lansdowne decreed at last. “After which, I will speak with Lady Olivia personally. If she expresses any discontent, I will reconsider.”
Edward inclined his head. “That is fair.”
Lady Lansdowne’s eyes twinkled with satisfaction. “I am most excited to see this development, Lord Cheshire.”
A strange knot formed in Edward’s stomach. Lady Lansdowne was a close friend of his family. He didn’t want to disappoint her or deceive her. But, she looked far too pleased, as though she were already planning Edward’s wedding breakfast.
This was William’s fault.
Had his brother simply arrived as he was meant to, Edward would not have found himself entangled in a scheme of his own making. And now, he had to carry it off without disappointing Lady Lansdowne—who was, in many ways, as dear to him as an aunt.
He swallowed down his discomfort, offered another bow, and took his leave, already devising ways to make their ruse appear as convincing as possible.
It was only for the next twelve days.
What could possibly go wrong?