A footman stood at the head of the staircase. “Have my carriage brought around.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Once the servant had gone, he placed his palm on Elizabeth’s waist. “Would you like to look at fabrics tomorrow? We can have luncheon together here and spend the afternoon deciding what you would like.”
A crease formed between her blond brows. “Can it be arranged that quickly?”
“I shall ensure it is.” He felt a tremor pass through her as he placed his lips next to her ear, and she sighed. “We have a ball this evening, do we not?”
“Lady Haverstock’s.” The pulse at the base of Elizabeth’s throat beat faster as he stroked the back of her neck.
“I want all of your waltzes that have not already been claimed.” He’d be damned if he’d agree to another man holding her in his arms.
She turned her head slightly, catching his eyes with hers and giving him a coy look. “Do you, indeed, my lord?”
Minx. Make that no other man would touch her. “As well as any other sets that have not been claimed.”
Her eyes widened. “All of them? Whatever for?”
Touching his lips to hers, he said, “So that everyone will know you are mine.”
Geoff backed her into the corridor, pulling her into his arms as he did. Elizabeth slid her hands up his jacket and around his neck. “Do you believe such drastic measures are necessary? Lord Littleton left Town, and no one else is interested in me.”
Geoff didn’t think Elizabeth would jilt him, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “I wish to spend time with you.” Her eyes searched his, but in this he was being completely honest. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. “Open for me and let me taste you.”
Pressing against him, she sought his mouth with hers. Their tongues touched, and danced, and he wanted nothing more than to carry her back to his bed. He cupped her breast, and she sighed. “We could go back into the bedroom.”
Before she could answer, Gibson’s voice drifted up the stairs. “Find his lordship and tell him his carriage is waiting.”
Geoff was about to curse himself for ordering his phaeton, but it was for the best. After her reaction to his bed, he needed to bring Elizabeth along slowly. Let her get used to the idea, and perhaps change the bedcover and hangings.
“We should go.” He tucked her arm in his. “One does not like to upset the upper servants.”
“Especially when they are not yours.”
“Precisely.” He had learned at an early age not to distress his parent’s or his mother’s servants.
By the time they got to the Park, it was clear the news of their betrothal had spread.
Tom Cotton, riding on a bay mare, came up to them. He glanced at Geoff, then at Elizabeth. “I see the news is true. Congratulations on your betrothal.”
“Thank you.” He took Elizabeth’s hand. “My dear, may I present a good friend of mine, Major Cotton. He is on his way to Brussels. Cotton, my betrothed, Miss Turley.”
“Major”—she smiled—“I am delighted to meet any of Harrington’s friends. I hope we will see you when we arrive in Brussels.”
“I shall look forward to it, Miss Turley.” Cotton bowed. “I leave tomorrow and will be on the watch for you.” He looked at Geoff. “Quarters are filling up. Have you already made arrangements? If not, I’ll see what I can find.”
“We have, thank you.” He assured his friend.
“I’ll look forward to seeing you there.” Cotton inclined his head. “Miss Turley, Harrington. I’ll let you continue your drive.”
He started the horses again as his friend rode off to a group of military gentlemen a short way from them.
“He seemed nice,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, he is. If nothing else, we’ll know one person there.”
“Perhaps we shall invite him to dinner.” Her eyes began to twinkle, and for an instant he was jealous of his friend. Then he realized she was looking forward to having their own home.
