Page 20 of Entertaining the Earl (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #2)
W hen Mr. Lyttleton asked him into the study for a drink after supper, Colin readily agreed. His host asked very little of him, and he was happy to do him this courtesy, even if he wasn’t sure they had much to discuss.
“Port or whiskey?” Mr. Lyttleton asked as the door swung closed.
“Whiskey, please.” Colin took a seat in the large red wingback chair that sat opposite Mr. Lyttleton’s desk.
It was not a room he had frequented often since his arrival, preferring the library, and as he glanced around, he noticed how neat it was and how much paperwork Mr. Lyttleton had piled upon his desk.
He was clearly a very busy man, with numerous involvements in his businesses, despite having already made so much money.
“Are you enjoying the Season, Lord Bourne?” Mr. Lyttleton asked, sliding a glass of whiskey across the desk to him and taking his own seat.
“Please, just call me Bourne,” Colin said, feeling a little uncomfortable standing on ceremony when he was living in this man’s home. “And yes, it has been pleasantly diverting—more so than I had expected, I must admit.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Although I have heard talk that you may leave before the Season is over?”
Colin swallowed his sip of whiskey more quickly than was sensible and had to cough before he answered.
“ I—” He couldn’t tell Mr. Lyttleton that things weren’t so enjoyable since he had kissed the man’s daughter and now things were awkward between them.
He didn’t even want to admit how big a part of his reasoning that was.
“My estate has been long-neglected. I thought not to return to it until after the Season, but I do wonder now whether I am putting it off without good reason. I may have been earl for some time, but I have not been in the country nor taken responsibility for my estates. Now seems the time to do so.”
For a moment, Mr. Lyttleton simply nodded without saying anything. “I understand,” he eventually added. “And I commend your sense of duty—I do. But I feel we must talk, before you leave, about my daughter.”
Colin froze in the chair, wondering if Mr. Lyttleton knew, wondering if he was about to call him out. And he knew he would deserve such treatment too—he had not behaved in a gentlemanly way toward Miss Lyttleton.
Had she told him? He couldn’t quite imagine her doing so, especially so many days after the fact. But the truth was that Mr. Lyttleton wanted to talk about her, and Colin had no escape.
“Indeed,” Colin finally managed to say, as his mind reached for excuses and reasons but came up short.
“You have singled her out this Season. And do not think we are not grateful; she has been on the marriage market for some time, and the interest of a man such as yourself—”
Colin bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from saying something.
He knew it wasn’t his place to say so, but he really did not like the way they spoke of Susannah.
Of course, he knew she had been looking for a husband for some time, but she didn’t need her parents disseminating that information, surely.
“But what I need to know is,” Mr. Lyttleton said, tapping his fingers on the side of his glass of whiskey as though the conversation was quite awkward for him, “what your intentions are. Your names have been linked, as I’m sure you are aware.
The dances, the promenades… If you were to disappear to the country now, it would look as though my daughter had done something wrong.
” Mr. Lyttleton narrowed his eyes. “And I presume she has not.”
Colin quickly shook his head. “No, no—she has done nothing wrong.” It was he who had done something wrong—but it seemed Mr. Lyttleton was not aware of it. He simply wished to know what Colin planned regarding his daughter, which was a question Colin ought to have been expecting.
When the time came, they had agreed that Miss Lyttleton would be the one to break it off…but of course, Colin could not tell her father that and out the whole courtship as a lie.
“Your daughter is a very charming young lady,” Colin said, speaking without telling a single lie. “I am very much enjoying the time I spend with her…but I feel I must tell you that I’m not ready to wed just yet.”
There , Colin thought to himself. That ought to surely placate him a little. And if he wants to warn me off her, then I can keep my distance. If I’m returning home anyway, I shan’t see her anymore.
He was surprised at the wave of sadness that washed over him at the thought of not seeing her again.
He was aware that he found her, perhaps rather surprisingly, attractive.
He had initiated that kiss, he was sure of it—and if the lightning had not interrupted them, he was rather concerned he would have taken things further.
“I understand. You are a young man, and you have been traveling the world. I can see why you might not wish to tie yourself down just yet. But I must ask you to think of my daughter’s reputation. I am, of course, aware that she is a plain girl and that she is unlikely to be chosen for her looks—”
At this, Colin pulled one hand into a fist in his lap; the other tightened around his whiskey glass. They spoke of her as if she were some kind of old hag. When really, Colin had seen a beauty in her that only grew with each day .
“I think she is perfectly capable of securing a husband with her looks,” he interrupted as politely as he could manage.
Mr. Lyttleton looked at him skeptically and pursed his lips before continuing. “Well. She should certainly be able to attract a husband with the size of her dowry. But if her reputation were impacted by you suddenly leaving, and people thinking it was her fault…”
“I can assure you that I will not leave Miss Lyttleton’s reputation with a stain upon it,” Colin promised. After all, aside from the kiss, he planned to leave her a more attractive prospect to future husbands, not less. And no one ever needed to know about the kiss.
Mr. Lyttleton smiled. “Excellent. I am pleased to hear it. And may I just say, whether you stay for the rest of the Season or only briefly, what a pleasure it has been for us to host you.”
“And I appreciate your hospitality,” Colin said, feeling like he might say something rude if he stayed much longer.
The way they spoke of Susannah, as if she were incapable of finding a husband, as if she were nothing but a problem to be solved…
it made him angry. He stood, placing his empty glass on the desk more forcefully than he had intended.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have some correspondence I must see to before I retire.” Colin did not wait for Mr. Lyttleton to agree. Instead, he stalked from the room and made his way straight to his chamber, where he would not be disturbed.
Why was he so angry? Miss Lyttleton was not his wife, and she was their daughter. Even if he did not like it, there was no reason for them to worry about how they discussed her because of his views.
He would make sure that in not marrying her, he made it very clear it was not her fault—and he firmly believed that his interest, and her unavailability, would only make her more appealing to prospective husbands.
And yet…
He banged his fist on the dressing table, just to have something to do to ease his anger. Dammit, but the thought of her wedded to someone else made him angry too. He was attracted to her, he felt something for her, he could not deny it.
But what he had said to Mr. Lyttleton was not entirely a lie. He was not ready to marry. The estate needed far too much organization for him to focus on a wife. And he would not be his father, breaking the heart of the woman he had legally wed with his negligence and inattention.
And at the back of his mind, he knew his aunt had had a point when she had said that Miss Lyttleton was not the sort of woman he should be marrying.
Not because of her looks or society’s perception of them.
Not because she came from a more modern family.
No, because he needed someone who could be a countess, who could restore the reputation of the Bourne title, and Colin wasn’t sure Susannah had the confidence to do so.