Page 15 of Entertaining the Earl (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #2)

T he next morning, Susannah woke early, in spite of her late night.

She rang the bell for her maid to help her dress, but she could not focus on the conversation that young Louise was making.

All she could think about was that kiss.

The way Lord Bourne’s blue eyes had sparkled in the firelight.

The way her heart had swooped and her thoughts had become illogical when his lips had pressed against hers.

And now she would have to see him over breakfast. See him…and pretend nothing had happened. For even if he wanted to discuss the incident, which she presumed he would not, her parents would be present, and so they could not acknowledge that anything was any different between them at all.

And then the following night they were to attend a ball together, and she would have to pretend they were courting, but also pretend to him that her thoughts weren’t consumed by that kiss.

Because his certainly wouldn’t be. He was a man, for a start—and she had always heard that men did not feel the same way about a kiss as women did.

Not that she’d had any experience of how wonderful a kiss could be, before…

But she had overheard plenty of gossip, from her position on the edge of society and of the dance floor.

“Will there be anything else, Miss Lyttleton?” Louise asked as she finished tying a ribbon in the plait down Susannah’s back.

“No, thank you Louise.” As her maid tidied away the pins and the hairbrush, Susannah studied her face in the mirror.

Her hair and eyes were the most boring shade of brown, and her nose always seemed to be too small, and her eyes a little too wide.

Today, her cheeks were pink, as were her lips, and thinking about her lips only caused her to blush more.

Did she look different after the kiss? Would anyone be able to tell?

With nerves fluttering in her stomach, she left her room and made her way downstairs. She could hear from the clatter of dishes and the sound of voices that the dining room was not empty, and when she pushed the door open, she found she was the last to arrive.

“Good morning,” she said softly, avoiding looking at Lord Bourne, who had stood as soon as she had arrived.

“Good morning, Miss Lyttleton.” His voice was deep and calm.

She barely paid attention to her parents’ greetings as she slid into her seat, tripping over the chair leg as she did so.

“Be careful, Susannah!” her mother admonished with a tut.

“Sorry.” If her cheeks had been pink before, they were surely positively scarlet by now. She had tried to enter without drawing attention to herself, but had done the complete opposite.

“The storm seems to have blown itself out, thankfully,” Papa said. “Such a lot of noise last night. I thought the roof might come down!”

Susannah looked up and caught the earl’s eye, and was rather pleased to see him blushing and looking awkwardly away, too. It was the only sign that their kiss had not been completely in her mind.

“I hope it didn’t keep you awake, Lord Bourne,” Mama said. “Especially with your room being next to that large tree.”

Lord Bourne coughed, and Susannah looked down at her empty plate as he replied, not trusting her expression not to give something away.

“It did keep me awake…for a while. The tree wasn’t a problem though, don’t worry.”

She wondered how long he had spent in the library, once she had run off. Was that why he had not heard the branches of the tree being blown around in the wind?

“You look tired, Susannah,” Mama said in a disapproving voice.

“The storm kept me awake,” she said quickly.

“And your cheeks are red. I hope you aren’t sickening for anything—you know how important the Merriweather Ball tomorrow night is.”

“I’m well, Mama,” Susannah reassured her—although she wasn’t sure how it would have been her fault if she had been sick and missed the ball. She would hardly have done it on purpose. And yet anything she seemed to do was always wrong, in her mother’s eyes.

“You will be joining us, will you not, Lord Bourne?”

He hesitated for long enough that Susannah glanced up at him, wondering if the kiss had made him not want to attend, or not want to pretend to be courting her.

“It’s one of the biggest events of the Season,” Papa said. “I believe your aunt may also be in attendance. She usually is.”

Lord Bourne nodded. “I really ought to see her soon. Yes, I shall join you—although I am not sure if I can now remain for the entirety of the Season.”