“Would you please sit down?” She glared up at him. “I do not like the way you stand over one, glowering.”
“You had not asked me to sit before,” he protested as he lowered himself onto the chair next to her.
“That is your fault for distracting me.” Geoff waited patiently while she poured another cup of tea. “Now then, as I said. We did not know each other at all well when we married. Your grandfather was extremely susceptible to certain colors and our marriage changed for the better as a result.”
Based on the bedcover, it wasn’t hard to guess which colors brought the greatest results. They had affected him as well. “I see.”
“I doubt it,” Grandmama said, holding the cup in front of her mouth. “But you shall. Now leave me to my tea. I am sure you have something you ought to be doing.”
Such as enticing Elizabeth back into his bedchamber. He rose, and bowed. “Will I see you at dinner?”
“No, I am dining with friends. If you plan to attend Lady Haverstock’s ball, I shall see you there.”
“Elizabeth likes pink. She made a list of fabrics that I gave to Gibson when we left,” he said, before leaving the room. “And she is having luncheon here tomorrow.”
“All shall be ready for her.” His grandmother made a shooing motion with her hands.
“Must leave, must leave.”The bird flapped its wings as Apollonia re-entered the parlor and placed the cover over its cage.
He had never expected to have such an embarrassing conversation with his grandmother of all people. He should never have mentioned the bedcover and hangings. But who would have guessed that she had picked the colors?
Geoff needed to walk. He took his hat from Gibson and left the house. What the deuce did Grandmother mean by her marriage changing? Unless she simply meant that—no, he was not going to think about that.
Nothing had gone the way he’d expected it to today. Not to mention that dratted bird. He hoped Elizabeth never acquired one.
Chapter Eighteen
Elizabeth had intended to go straight to her room when she returned home, but the sounds of movement in the next chamber stirred her curiosity. She peeked in to see three new black and tan leather-covered traveling trunks. “They look well made.”
“I thought you’d like them,” Vickers said, opening one of the trunks. “This one has a place for shoes so that they don’t have to be wrapped separately.”
“How clever.” She opened the other trunk and found it lined in silk. “And elegant. I am surprised you found them already made.” She thought her maid would come back with regular wooden chests.
“They were ordered by a lady who was going to Europe and decided at the last minute she’d stay in England instead. I can tell you, the merchant was happy for me to take them off his hands. I’ll have Kenton paint your initials on the bottoms.”
Something else that would change. Her name. Goodness, it seemed like her life was being turned upside down. Her name, her rank, and her status would all change, not to mention having a husband, a home of her own, and traveling to Brussels.
Thinking of all the new clothes her aunt ordered for her, Elizabeth asked, “Will five be enough?”
“It should be.” Vickers pulled out the packing list they had drawn up, handing it to Elizabeth. “I think they’ll do. If not, I’ll go back to the shop.”
“I see you have crossed off several items.”
“That’s what I’ve packed,” her maid said.
“Very well. I shall rewrite it and give it back to you.”
She took the list to her desk and ended up adding a few items. By the time she was done, it was time to dress for dinner and the subsequent ball.
Yet despite the distraction of the trunks, the news that her father was returning to Town, and the reports of the Corsican’s movements, she could not get her mind off that bed—Geoffrey’s bed. Her breasts grew heavy, almost as if he was touching her.
Thanks to her friends, she was aware of how intimate she would be with him. Yet, that didn’t explain why her skin became so sensitive merely thinking about him andthatbed. What would have happened if Gibson had not called for him?
After dinner, as she and her aunt drank tea, her thoughts wandered again to the bed, or rather, she and Geoffrey in the bed.
“Elizabeth, are you sure you wish to attend the ball?” her aunt asked. “You look flushed, and you would not want to take ill before your wedding.”
“No, I’m fine.” She applied her fan, hoping that would help. “It is a little warm in here.”
