Page 5 of Entertaining the Earl (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #2)

S usannah was silent during the journey to the Denman home, where the first ball of the Season was being held.

She didn’t feel comfortable in the modern dress her mother had chosen for her, its neckline more daring than anything she had ever worn before.

She had already been dreading the thought of men pursuing her solely for her dowry, and that was without the embarrassment of tripping down the stairs in front of Lord Bourne—and the mortifying situation of him having to catch her.

She was never so clumsy. When she was reading while doing other tasks, she might get distracted—but she was perfectly capable of walking downstairs without making a fool of herself.

It was his fault, she decided as the carriage rattled across the cobblestones. She had steeled herself to expect his presence, and she thought she had been doing well, not allowing her mind to turn to jelly—and then he had complimented her.

And she knew he was only being polite. Of course, she had heard him offer the same compliment to her mother. But still, his words took hold, and she had lost all sense yet again.

She could not allow this to keep happening every single day. Surely, at some point, she would grow immune to whatever power he held over her?

*

He must have danced with every young lady present, Susannah thought, for it was hours before he left the dance floor—not even stopping for refreshment.

He was in great demand, and Susannah thought that was understandable.

Most of the gentlemen of the ton were familiar faces, either not looking for a wife or already married.

The Earl of Bourne was new and exciting, and, of course, devastatingly handsome.

She tried not to watch him all night, for she knew no good could come of it, but there was little else for her to do.

She was rarely asked to dance these days unless someone felt sorry for her, and so she stood with all the other spinsters and wallflowers, watching everyone else live their lives, fall in love, and waiting for the evening to be over.

There was a break in the music, and she lost sight of him for a moment.

It seemed that her father’s bragging about her dowry and her mother’s insistence on a lower neckline had not vastly changed things for Susannah.

Oh, there had been a gentleman or two who had looked her way, but she had only danced twice all evening, and no one had shown any serious interest. Perhaps her new packaging had intrigued some, but once they realized she was still Susannah Lyttleton underneath it all—rather plain, rather boring, with more common roots than they would have liked—that interest fell away.

Her mother stood beside her, wittering on about some lady’s fan and how ostentatious it was, but Susannah wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, she was wondering if she could sneak away and continue the novel she had stashed in her reticule.

Mama would be furious, of course—but Susannah thought it might be worth it to escape the boredom she currently felt.

When, she wondered as the musicians picked up their instruments again after a brief refreshment break, would her mother stop insisting she attend such functions?

Surely there was a point at which it became obvious that all of this was futile.

Then, perhaps, she could be left alone with her books and spinsterhood .

But alas, it did not seem as though this Season would be the one. Her parents still held out hope—and while that was the case, she was sure she would be trussed up and paraded about at every event, whether or not there was any likelihood of success.

“May I have this dance, Miss Lyttleton?”

She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed the Earl of Bourne approaching her until he was standing right before her, asking the surprising question.

Once again, Susannah’s mind went entirely blank. There was not a word she could think to utter until her mother jumped in and replied, “Of course you can. How delightful.”

Susannah did not know if he was asking from pity or obligation, and she tried not to care. She had been watching him dance with other young ladies all night, and she had to admit she’d rather wanted to dance with him too.

He took her hand and led her to the dance floor, and Susannah felt as though her whole body was on fire. Heat radiated from the point of contact, even though he wasn’t even touching her bare skin but merely the satin of her glove.

She was sure everyone was staring at them—more likely, staring at him and probably wondering what on earth he was doing dancing with Miss Susannah Lyttleton.

“Do you not like to dance?” the earl asked, and it took a great deal of effort for Susannah to think of a sensible answer and force her lips to open in reply.

“I do enjoy it, Lord Bourne,” she said, wondering why he thought such a thing. Perhaps it was because she had barely danced all night…but that was not exactly her choice.

“You don’t look very happy to be on the dance floor,” he said, and she met his sparkling blue eyes and couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“I admit, it makes me nervous to have so many eyes upon me. I am not used to such…attention.”

The earl laughed. “Nor am I.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “Surely that cannot be true. You’re an earl, and you look like…

Well, like you do…” She trailed off, heat rushing to her cheeks at what she had nearly said—at what she had implied.

Of course, she presumed he was well aware of how good-looking he was, but she certainly hadn’t intended to say it out loud.

If he noticed, he didn’t comment, but simply shook his head.

“You forget, Miss Lyttleton, that I have been used to a very different sort of life. Many of the people I’ve spent time with over the last decade haven’t even known I’m an earl, or was in line to be one, let alone been impressed by such a thing.

I’m certainly unaccustomed to having the interest of so many young ladies… and their mothers.”

He raised his eyebrows, and Susannah had to smother another giggle. He was funny—funny and good-looking, and seemingly kind too, for he had asked her to dance. It seemed rather unfair for one man to have all three desirable traits, but he did.

No wonder all of society was fawning over him.

“You are a young earl, and unwed, you cannot be wholly surprised by their attentions,” she said, pleased that she was managing to speak coherently before him.

“No, I suppose not,” he said with a sigh. “I just did not expect it to be so…intense.”

She nodded, as though she understood what he was saying, but she had never known the intense gaze of society.

Even in her first Season out, no one had paid much attention to her, and even now with her well-publicized dowry and lower neckline, she still did not attract the attention of the men of the ton .

So she could not understand what it was like to have people flocking around, even though she tried to empathize.

*

Colin felt drained by the evening. Every time he had finished dancing, another group of young ladies had seemed to appear, and he did not want to appear rude by not asking any of them to dance.

But if this was how the rest of the Season was to be, he didn’t know how he was going to manage.

He had expected some interest in his return, but not to have young ladies and their mamas pushing marriage options towards him at every turn.

Although he had been dancing for most of the night, it had not escaped his notice that the daughter of his hosts had barely danced at all. She was clearly very shy, and he wondered if it was that she didn’t want to dance, or was simply not asked.

But as they danced, she spoke a little, and he found she had more to say than he had expected when faced with the silent young woman he had met in the library at the Lyttletons’ London home.

And he found himself wondering why she was not asked to dance more, and why she was not wed.

She was not a great beauty, it was true, but she was not unappealing…

and when she smiled, it lit up her face and transformed it.

And the topic which seemed to engage her the most was books.

“Are you reading anything interesting at the moment?” he asked her, having seen her reading both when he had arrived and again that morning.

“All books are interesting,” she said, a smile playing on her lips. “But I am currently reading Persuasion , by Miss Austen.”

“And are you enjoying it?” he asked.

“Immensely. Have you read any of Miss Austen’s work?”

“Alas, I am afraid I tend only to read historical tomes, or accounts of travels…not fiction.”

She tutted. “Gentlemen think that reading novels is not a worthwhile pursuit, something beneath them, but I am sure if you gave novels a try, you would find yourself pleasantly diverted. And perhaps you might learn a thing or two about yourself, and society.”

She’d put more words in that single statement than all the rest she’d uttered since he’d arrived, and that made him stop to consider.

Whatever his view on novels, they certainly mattered to her.

Colin did not think he viewed reading novels as beneath him…

it was just not something he had been particularly inclined to do.

He frowned. “Well, whilst I am staying with you, you will have to recommend some of your favorites, and I shall see if I am enlightened by reading them.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes widening a little. Had she expected him to be rude about the novels she loved so much? Or to refuse to listen to her recommendations? “Yes. I will.”

The music came to an end, and Colin escorted her back to her parents, where a crowd of ladies had formed, all waving their fans and smiling in his direction.

He smiled back, but his heart wasn’t in it.

It was flattering, of course, to be at the center of such ardent attentions, but he rather longed to be somewhere else; somewhere on the continent, perhaps, where those around him either didn’t know or didn’t care that he was the Earl of Bourne, and where he didn’t have to worry so much about living up to people’s expectations.

*

She watched him for the rest of the evening. He smiled at every lady, danced with as many as he could, and his companions always left him with a sparkle in their eye.

What must it be like, she mused, to be able to charm people like that? To have them hanging from your every word?

And yet she couldn’t blame the young women who were fluttering their eye lashes at him and smiling behind their fans.

He was charm personified; he even seemed interested in the books she was reading, and wanted recommendations.

No man had ever asked her that before. She felt, for that brief period on the dance floor, as though she was finally being seen—and that was a heady feeling indeed.