“You’re insatiable.”
“Only for you, but we must head back now.”
Hartley gathered the horses and helped her back into the saddle. As they rode back to her grandmother’s property line, she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. Although Hartley hadn’t said that he loved her, if his kisses were any indication, he did love her too – he only needed to admit it.
“Good day to you, Lady Harriet,” Hartley said when they reached the property line.
“Good day, Lord Hartley.”
He tipped his hat, and she watched him until he was no longer visible.
“Oh, what a glorious man,” she said with a sigh. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before she saw him again.
By the time she’d returned to the manor, bathed, and dressed for the day, Wiltshire, Mercy, and her mother were in the dining room. She assumed her grandmother had taken a breakfast tray in her room, as was her custom.
“There you are, my dear,” Eleanor said.
“Good morning, all. This smells delicious. I’m quite famished this morning.” She went to the sideboard and filled her plate while a footman poured her a cup of tea.
“So, I’ve been thinking about when we should return to London,” Eleanor said when Harriet returned to the table.
Harriet’s panicked eyes turned to Wiltshire, silently pleading with him to tell her mother that she didn’t want to return to London.
“About that, Eleanor. There’s something we should talk about.”
“What is it, Wiltshire? Have you changed your mind about going to your country estate?”
Wiltshire shook his head. “No, it’s not about me or my lovely duchess. It’s about Harriet.”
“What about Harriet? I don’t understand,” Eleanor said, looking at her daughter.
“I’ve given my approval for Lord Hartley to court Harriet.”
Eleanor swung her gaze back to the duke. “Lord Hartley? Surely you cannot be serious. I know he’s a friend of yours, but the man can hardly stand to be in anyone’s company for longer than a few moments.”
“Mama, you’re not being fair. There are things you don’t understand,” Harriet said.
“I understand you’re my daughter and I shall decide what is best for you.”
Mercy reached over and grasped her mother’s hand. “Mama, please listen. Harriet doesn’t want a Season; she wants to make a life here in Bath with Lord Hartley.”
Eleanor speared her youngest daughter with a look of disbelief. “Is this true, Harriet? You don’t want a Season?”
Harriet nodded. “It’s true, Mama. I’ve tried to tell you that numerous times. I have no interest in meeting other gentlemen. The only man I want to marry is Lord Hartley.”
“I see, and if he never proposes? I can see that happening. What then?”
“Then I shall not marry anyone else.”
Eleanor turned her attention to the duke. “Wiltshire, surely you can see this isn’t a good match. Harriet is too young to make such a monumental decision that will affect the rest of her life.”
“On the contrary, my lady. I believe Harriet and Hartley will make a lovely couple. There are challenges, to be sure, but I wouldn’t have agreed for him to court Harriet if I didn’t believe he could rise to the occasion.”
“Please, Mama. Listen to the duke. He’s known Lord Hartley the longest. I trust his judgment.”
“Well, I can see I’m outnumbered here, and I can’t say I’m happy about this, but if Wiltshire believes Lord Hartley is capable of a proper courtship, then I shall withhold my judgment. For now. That’s all I can promise at the moment.”
Harriet jumped up and ran to her mother, hugging her fiercely. “Thank you, Mama. You’ll see. All will be well.”
