Page 17 of Entertaining the Earl (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #2)

W hen he returned to the ballroom after the rather frustrating conversation with his aunt, in which he had been forced to tell her that his relationship with Miss Lyttleton was not going to end in marriage, he tried to find Susannah.

She often disappeared into the background at events like these, and yet he normally never struggled to locate her.

He wondered, really, how she had been overlooked for so many years when she had so many qualities to recommend her.

But on this occasion, he could not find her. She was not in any of the places she usually frequented when avoiding her parents at a ball, and when he found her parents, they also had no idea of her whereabouts—not that he was particularly surprised by that. They did seem very quick to ignore her.

“Lord Bourne, what a pleasure to see you,” a deep yet feminine voice said, and he turned to find Lady Linley and her three daughters.

He had met them at one of the first balls of the Season, but had managed to avoid them more successfully after making the agreement with Miss Lyttleton in Vauxhall Gardens.

However, now he found himself alone and surrounded by the four rather intimidating ladies, each dressed in a different jewel tone, and waving around matching fans.

He bowed his head. “And it’s a pleasure to see you, Lady Linley.”

“I presume you remember my daughters?” she said, waving her hand to indicate the three young ladies beside her, all of whom were smiling in his direction. “Lady Emerald, Lady Jade, and Lady Ruby.”

Once again he bowed his head in greeting, trying to think how he could extricate himself from the situation.

He had no desire to have to offer dances to all three girls, and quite possibly their mother as well.

They weren’t unattractive, but they did not seem to share one sensible thought between them, and it would be a painfully silent dance which he would rather avoid.

It was at that moment that he saw Miss Lyttleton re-enter the room, and make a beeline for her parents.

Although Lady Linley was speaking, Colin found his attention captured by the young lady he was pretending to court.

The conversation between them looked fraught; Mrs. Lyttleton’s face was scrunched up in irritation, and Miss Lyttleton kept looking at the floor.

“Have you been enjoying the dancing this evening, Lord Bourne?” Lady Linley asked, and Colin forced his attention back to the ladies.

“I—the musicians are very talented,” he answered, hoping he could escape the conversation without being forced to ask them to dance out of politeness.

“They certainly are,” Lady Linley continued, undeterred. “The Merriweathers always put on an incredible ball. But we are sadly lacking gentlemen tonight. Can you believe my daughters have each only danced twice so far this evening?”

He opened his mouth to reply, feeling the trap closing in around him, but before he could respond, Mr. Lyttleton hurried over.

“My apologies for interrupting,” he said, with a nod to Lady Linley and her daughters. “I’m afraid Susannah is feeling unwell, and so we must return home. We can of course send the carriage back for you…”

Colin immediately glanced over to where he had last seen Susannah with her parents, but she was already gone.

He hoped she did not feel too ill. Her mother had commented on her looking tired and rosy-cheeked the previous day, but he had put that down to their unexpected liaison, and not illness. But perhaps he had been wrong .

“Oh, I could not inconvenience you in that way,” he said, taking the opportunity while he could. “Lady Linley, ladies, it has been a pleasure, as always. Good evening.”

And then he walked away with Mr. Lyttleton, knowing that he had been rude, but very pleased to have escaped the three—or possibly even four—dull dances he had been about to be trapped into.

The carriage was awaiting them outside, with the ladies already in it, and when Colin stepped in, he immediately turned to look at Miss Lyttleton. She looked pale this evening, although he did not remember thinking so when they had left the house.

In fact, he had found himself thinking how pretty she looked in the shade of ice blue that she was wearing…but that wasn’t a notion he thought he ought to dwell on.

“I am sorry to hear you are unwell, Miss Lyttleton,” he said, as Mr. Lyttleton sat next to him on the bench and the door closed.

“We are sorry to cut your evening short, Lord Bourne,” Mrs. Lyttleton said, seemingly with no concern at all for her daughter’s wellbeing.

“It is just a headache,” Miss Lyttleton murmured, glancing at him and then looking away. He swore he saw hurt in her eyes, and hoped she was not in too much pain.

“I’ve told you, you read too much. That won’t be helping the pain in your head.”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” she said, her voice full of sorrow.

When they returned home, Colin was keen to speak with her, to check that she wasn’t too unwell, but she hurried off to bed before he had the chance.

Since agreeing to pretend to court, they had conversed and laughed together fairly easily, and he found he missed it. He only hoped she would feel better the following day, and things would go back to the way they had been.

At the back of his mind, he worried that she was behaving differently because of their kiss. But she had seemed fine at the beginning of the evening. She had danced with him, and they had laughed at the behavior of the clearly very inebriated couple dancing next to them.

So it must be the headache causing her distance—for he could think of nothing that had changed over the course of the evening.

*

Colin barely saw Miss Lyttleton for three days after the ball, and he began to worry that she was sicker than her parents were letting on.

He asked after her health every day, but he did not feel he could do more than that. He was tempted to knock on her bedchamber door to check that she was all right…but he knew it would not be appropriate. He did not want to make her life more difficult.

When she finally came down for breakfast on the fourth day, her eyes looked a little puffy and her face pale, but she did not seem particularly weak, for which he was grateful.

“I am pleased you are feeling better,” Colin said.

He had been surprised at how much he had missed her company in the few days she had been secluded away.

Mr. and Mrs. Lyttleton were always pleasant to him, but they were not nearly as interesting to converse with as Miss Lyttleton.

He enjoyed trying to make her laugh, seeing her eyes light up, and watching how a smile could change her whole face.

And if he ever thought about kissing those lips… Well, he would certainly keep that to himself. But it was not an unenjoyable sensation to recall the kiss he had shared with the young lady before him.

“Thank you, Lord Bourne.” She did not meet his eyes, and he wondered again whether he had offended her when he had kissed her.

Well, of course, he had. She was a well-brought-up young lady, and he was supposed to be a gentleman.

Except…except he was sure that she had kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

He didn’t think he could have imagined that sort of passion .

“It’s a lovely day, by the looks of it. Perhaps we could promenade this afternoon?” he suggested.

“I am not sure if I feel—” Miss Lyttleton began.

“I think it’s a splendid idea,” Mrs. Lyttleton said, overruling her daughter. “Some fresh air, a little sunshine—just what you need after feeling ill in your room these past days.”

“I—”

Whatever Susannah had been about to say was silenced by a sharp look from her mother.

Colin felt rather guilty. He could tell she did not particularly wish to promenade, and he knew he ought to find a way to let her off the hook.

But he was also feeling rather desperate to have a moment when he could speak to her, to check that she was well, and to make sure she was not so offended that she could no longer speak to him.

And the only chance they had of speaking without being overheard was while walking in the park, with her maid trailing far behind.

*

Susannah dressed in the pink day dress her mother had selected, even though it was one she hated. She had tried in vain to avoid spending time alone with the earl, and now it was something she was going to have to face.

She felt so stupid for letting the earl’s declaration—the declaration that he would not marry her, something she had been well aware of—upset her so much.

She was not the type of young lady prone to hiding away in her room and crying, and yet that was what she had found herself doing over the last three days.

Not because she had thought at any point that he would propose marriage…

but because of how much it hurt to hear him declare that it certainly was not going to happen.

It was her own fault; she knew it. She had let her feelings for the earl grow far stronger than they had any right being. She had allowed herself to believe a lie—and then been hurt by reality.

Thankfully, her mother had seemed to believe her claim that she had a cold, and so she had been able to languish in her room for three days without having to see the earl or face the feelings in her treacherous heart.

But there was only so far she could take it. When her mother had insisted that the doctor must be called if she truly was so ill that she could not leave her room, Susannah had known she needed to return to her normal life.

She just hoped the time spent mourning her silly feelings would ensure that she did not make a fool of herself.

Lord Bourne was waiting by the front door when she descended the stairs.

He looked as handsome as ever, and she felt a lump in her throat when she thought of the fact that one day he would surely find a beautiful, titled wife, who would get to live the life that Susannah had found herself daydreaming about.

In some ways, she cursed the day Lord Bourne had arrived at their house. For she had not known what she was missing before him.

But now… now she had tasted what her life could be. That one kiss had made the world shimmer, and without the possibility of it happening again, everything seemed dull.

She knew better than to think a man like the Earl of Bourne could ever be interested in her as more than a diversion to pass the time.