Chapter Eight
Elizabeth arrived home just as Gavin drove up accompanied by a gentleman she had never seen before. An extremely good-looking gentleman at that. His hair was a sable color and curled quite as much as Elizabeth’s did. His bright green eyes twinkled at something her brother said. His nose was aquiline, his lips well molded, and his chin was strong, but neither was it square. He did have the most delightful dimple on his right cheek when he smiled, which he seemed to do a great deal.
Yet, despite his undeniable good looks, she was not drawn to him in the same manner she was to Lord Harrington. Which, as it happened, turned out to be fortunate.
“Gavin, it has been days!” She hovered between hugging her brother or taking him to task. “Where have you been?”
“All will be made clear in a moment.” Once they were in the hall, Gavin said, “Elizabeth, may I make you known to Lord Littleton. Littleton, my sister, Miss Turley.”
“Miss Turley.” Lord Littleton smiled as he bowed, and she could name several young ladies who would have swooned the instant he had touched her hand. His address was excellent.
“My lord, a pleasure to meet you.” She inclined her head then gave her brother a questioning look.
Obviously quite pleased with himself, Gavin said, “Lord Littleton has agreed to pretend to be interested in you.” For no apparent reason whatsoever, her brother frowned. “The only proviso is that you must not fall in love with him.”
They must be out of their minds or joking. Why in Heaven’s name would she fall in love with Lord Littleton? “You must be—” The earnest looks on both their countenances made her swiftly understand they were entirely serious about carrying out this farce. “But why?”
“From what I heard,” Gavin said as he led them back to the morning room, “Harrington only began to behave as if he wanted Lady Charlotte after Kenilworth had snapped her up. I saw Littleton at the fi——er sporting event I attended. He drew women like flies.” Gavin pulled a face. “No offence, Littleton.”
“None taken.” The man grinned good-naturedly. “Women of all sorts seem to find me interesting.”
“So,” her brother said, “I thought that anyone could get the idea you might be interested in Littleton—even a dunderhead like Harrington—and he would finally realize what’s what.” Gavin nodded his head decisively as if this all made sense.
They were mad. Completely out of their minds. Bedlamites, the two of them. Gavin for even coming up with such an idea and Lord Littleton for going along with it. Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. “I do not understand why we must engage in this playacting.”
“It would not be only you pretending you might be interested in me,” Lord Littleton explained. “I would be seen to be interested in you as well.”
This still seemed unnecessary. Either Lord Harrington would want her for herself or not. She did not like to engage in deceptions. “To what purpose?”
“My dear lady.” Lord Littleton possessed himself of her hands, his gaze capturing hers.
Good Lord, the man was dangerous. She sent a prayer of thanks to the deity that she was not affected by him. “Do you do that on purpose?”
He shook his head and stared at her. “Do what?”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. “Look into a woman’s eyes as if she were the only lady on earth you wished to be with.”
“Ah, no,” he said a little sheepishly. “It just happens. I can’t seem to stop myself.”
“It’s like this, Lizzy”—her brother cut in—“any gentleman who’s interested in a lady doesn’t wish to see another man making up to her.” He gave his friend a disgusted look. “Littleton agreed to help, but you can see how dangerous it is for him to be in Town. He truly can’t help himself from flirting, and he’ll soon find himself in a bumble-bath if he remains too long. He’s not ready for a leg-shackle yet, but he’d be bound to raise some lady’s expectations and that won’t do.”
“That’s it exactly.” Lord Littleton must have realized he was still holding Elizabeth’s hands and released them. “But that’s not the only reason Turley and I thought I’d be the best one. You see, Harrington and I never got on well together. That will give him the extra incentive to court you properly.”
“And,” Gavin added, “Littleton is so full of juice that he is just as eligible as Harrington. Other than the title that is.”
Her brother and Lord Littleton focused their gazes on her, and she glanced from one man to the other. “I understand.” Or she thought she did. Men were such strange creatures. She wondered why Lord Harrington did not like Lord Littleton. He seemed amiable enough. “Very well, then. How do we begin?”
“First you have to promise not to fall in love with Littleton,” her brother said. “That would make this dashed inconvenient.”
For all his lordship’s good looks and charming manner—not to mention those eyes—he did not make her heart flutter as Lord Harrington did. Nor had his touch made her want to sink into him when he had held her hands. “I promise.”
“Good.” Gavin nodded. “Which set did you promise Harrington?”
“He requested the supper dance.” She recalled that he had asked for another set, but she had been so out of sorts with him that she hadn’t answered. “That is the only set he will get this evening.”
“Do you have another waltz on your card?” her brother asked.
There were only to be three this evening. One was the opening set, and she did not have a partner for that dance as yet. “Yes. The first set is a waltz.”
