Page 9 of Entertaining the Earl (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #2)

S he spoke of marriage with as much enthusiasm as she did embroidery, and he could not help but ask, “Do you want to marry?”

She did not look at him as she replied. “Every young woman wants to marry, my lord.”

“But do you?”

She glanced behind her, and he thought she was checking to see if her maid could overhear them before answering. “I…am not against marriage. In theory.”

“But in practice?”

“In practice, no one has ever asked me, so the question is a pointless one.” She flashed him a sad smile.

“And if they did?” He didn’t know why he was pressing her on this. It was not really an appropriate conversation for acquaintances, and if he were truly courting her, he would surely have been rather disturbed to think she did not care for marriage.

And she was right; every young lady gave the impression that they wanted to wed, and soon. But surely that could not be true for all of them?

“I do not torture myself imagining such scenarios. But if I never marry, and can spend my days as I wish, I would not be devastated.”

They reached the Lyttletons’ carriage, and as Colin handed her in, he wondered if her parents knew that she had no real wish to wed. She did not seem to have any desire to run her own home or to have children—she just wanted to be free to live as she wished.

But would she really have any more freedom as an unwed spinster than she would as someone’s wife?

*

When Colin entered the parlor, the room was rather quiet, with Miss Lyttleton and her mother embroidering.

Miss Lyttleton did not look like she was enjoying her morning’s pursuits, and Colin wondered if he could somehow improve things for her.

“May I join you?” he asked, and both Miss and Mrs. Lyttleton looked up in surprise, having clearly not heard him enter the room.

They both hurried to put down their embroidery to greet him, and he bowed his head in return.

He still was not used to how formal everything had to be back in England.

And it wasn’t simply because he was now an earl; it was just the way things were done here.

When he had traveled, however, most formalities had been dropped. He much preferred things that way.

“Of course, Lord Bourne. Please do. Why don’t you take a seat next to Susannah? As you’ll see, she is quite proficient with a needle and thread.”

Susannah flashed him a brief smile, one which seemed to change her features altogether and made him unable to stop smiling back.

Her sewing did indeed seem at a reasonable level, but it was clear—to him, anyway—that she took no pleasure in the task.

She had told him as much when they had been out of earshot of her mother: how she longed to read instead of spending time on these feminine pursuits.

“It is a fine day we are having, is it not?” Colin said as he opened up the newspaper.

He became very aware, suddenly, of how small the sofa was that he shared with Miss Lyttleton and how close they were.

He watched her for a moment as she completed another row of stitches, leaving her mother to do the talking.

“Indeed, it is pleasantly mild. And I am pleased, for I must go to the modiste today, and London is so much more enjoyable in the sunshine than the rain.”

“I daresay that could be said of most places, madam,” Colin said with a smile. “But there is something about London that becomes particularly gray and dreary on a miserable day, I concur.”

“We shall leave soon, Susannah,” Mrs. Lyttleton said.

“Am I needed at the modiste, Mama?” Miss Lyttleton asked, looking even less enthused about the task than she did her embroidery. “For I have so recently had new dresses…”

“I need to choose fabrics for my own new gown,” Mrs. Lyttleton said, putting down her embroidery and glancing over at Susannah. “But I do not think it’s a sensible choice to leave you here…”

Her eyes darted momentarily to Colin, and he realized that his presence was making Mrs. Lyttleton worry about some possible impropriety. Of course, she did not know that the interest they had been showing each other was merely feigned, and that she did not need to worry about his presence.

But then, even if they had not been pretending to have formed an attachment, it would not be the done thing to leave a single young woman of marriageable age alone with an unwed young man.

He did not wish to be the reason Miss Lyttleton had to go on an outing she did not want. He thought he could go out himself and remove the obstacle…but then thought of a better solution.

“Perhaps, if Miss Lyttleton’s maid could sit in the parlor with us, you might be willing to allow Miss Lyttleton to remain?” he asked, hoping that it would be Susannah’s preference. “After all, it would give us some time to converse, away from the noise and bustle of the ballroom.”

Mrs. Lyttleton did not look entirely convinced, but thankfully Miss Lyttleton jumped in to agree to the plan. “What a marvelous idea. You did promise me you would tell me more of your travels, and it is so much easier to do so in the peace of the drawing room—with my maid to chaperone, of course.”

Mrs. Lyttleton still looked unsure, but she nodded anyway. “Well, I suppose. As long as Louise is present.”

“Of course,” Colin agreed. “Your home is the height of propriety, Mrs. Lyttleton.”

Seeming mollified by the compliment, Mrs. Lyttleton finished her neat row of stitching before standing to make her departure.

Colin stood too, politely bowed his head, and then took his seat next to Miss Lyttleton once more.

For a few brief moments, they were alone, and Susannah flashed him a smile before putting her cross-stitch to one side.

“Thank you for saving me from a morning of sewing and a tedious trip to the modiste.”

“You’re very welcome,” Colin replied. “And I am more than happy to discuss my travels—I’m afraid it’s a topic I rarely tire of. But if you wish to read, I am also content to sit here and peruse the newspaper. I am happy to sit with you in chaperoned silence.”

*

Susannah did not think that she had ever felt more seen, more understood, than she did in that moment.

She was interested in his tales, but the fact that he understood her precious desire to simply read—that he had ensured she did not have to endure a dull morning with her mother and could instead follow her own passions—meant so much to her.

“You are a very understanding gentleman,” she said, just as her maid walked into the room, taking a seat in the corner and beginning to work on a large pile of darning .

She did not say any more, now that they were not alone, but she was beginning to see just how dangerous a man could be.

For if one was so handsome that he took her breath away, and kind and thoughtful to boot, how on earth was she supposed to stop herself from falling head over heels in love with him?

She had always thought such behavior was only for silly girls, a notion they had been brought up to believe, and so, therefore, one they played up to.

But she was beginning to realize that perhaps, where matters of the heart were concerned, one didn’t have as much control as she had always imagined.

*

After a pleasant half hour discussing his travels to Greece, Colin suggested that she read her book, and he reopened the newspaper that he had barely read upon first entering the parlor.

There was nothing of any great interest in it, but he liked to keep abreast of what was going on wherever he was living.

Every now and then, he found himself glancing up at Miss Lyttleton, who was so absorbed in her book that she barely seemed to be aware of her surroundings at all.

Her eyes darted across the page at great speed, and occasionally her mouth would move in a display of emotion that he could not quite read.

Happiness for the characters? Or sadness for their plight?

He could not quite tell, nor could he read the title from beneath her fingertips.

He wanted to ask, but it seemed unfair to interrupt her when she was so absorbed.

She was, he thought as he watched her, the late morning sunshine streaming through the windows, rather prettier than he had first appreciated.

Why had the young men looking for wives not realized this?

Along with a sizable dowry, it would surely make her an attractive marriage prospect.

But then perhaps no one else had watched her like this, lost in emotions, so enthralled by the words before her that she was oblivious to the outside world.

He felt rather honored to be sitting here with her, in the presence of the silently darning maid, with her guard so let down.

She glanced up and caught his eye, and he realized he had been staring at her for far too long.

He hurriedly lowered his eyes to the newspaper, but was sure he felt his cheeks turning red.

What a ridiculous reaction, he told himself.

He had simply found her focus on the book interesting. There was nothing else to it.