“Indeed.” She looked as if she had eaten a particularly sour lemon. “I do not know that we will ever be able to convince Theo to stop, but the others know I expect better behavior. Unfortunately, he did an excellent job of aggravating Worthington’s stepmother.”
“Obviously, it is past time I stepped in.” Eunice blamed herself. She should never have allowed her grief over her husband to separate her from her son.
* * *
Later that afternoon, her butler held out a silver salver. She picked up the envelope and opened it. As she had expected, Grace had been prompt. It was the promised invitation to Lady Featherington’s ball on Friday evening. Next was a small packet, which Eunice recognized as her vouchers for Almack’s. “Thank you, Paken.”
She briefly wondered what Dominic would think of attending an entertainment not filled with Tories, and shrugged. He would simply have to get used to it. She refused to allow him to marry a milksop, or a toad-eater, or a woman who would never love him.
* * *
Merton had walked around Rotten Row twice. He had seen many of his acquaintances, but not the young lady he sought. Just as he started his third circuit, he caught sight of Miss Stern and his cousins. She was delightfully lovely in a pale yellow muslin walking gown. The well-cut spencer showed off the outline of her breasts, causing his blood to race. A parasol shaded her porcelain complexion. She smiled when he hailed her. Then Louisa said something, and Miss Stern nodded, the wide smile fading from her lips.
He was damned if he would allow his cousin to intimidate him. “Good afternoon, Miss Stern.”
She curtseyed so gracefully, he thought his heart would stop.
“Good afternoon, my lord.”
When she glanced at him her eyes were the color of the new leaves in spring. He bowed and lightly kissed her gloved hand, all the while wanting to touch her bare skin. “How fortuitous to see you again.”
A light blush painted her cheeks. She inclined her head only slightly. Such dignity of manner. She must be the daughter of a viscount.
“It is my pleasure as well, my lord,” she replied.
She had a low, pleasing voice. One he could listen to for hours, definitely over the breakfast or dinner table, and at night, especially at night. He swallowed. In bed, when her inky curls caressed her shoulders, and her lips, those deep rosy lips . . . More than anything he would love to kiss them and feel them on his . . . Oh Lord, was he really havingthosethoughts about an innocent young lady? Gentlemen were supposed to take their pleasure with mistresses and not burden their wives with such primitive urges.
He must be going mad. This had to stop. “May I accompany you ladies on your walk?”
He waited, expecting Louisa to say something cutting; instead, Miss Stern smiled again. “Thank you, my lord. We would be honored.”
Since he couldn’t take the arms of all three ladies, he stayed on the outside and offered his escort to Miss Stern. She very properly placed her small hand on his arm, and they resumed the promenade. “How do you like London so far, Miss Stern?”
“I barely know, my lord. I arrived only yesterday. Thus far, I am having a wonderful time. I shall not bore you with all the details, but today we went shopping. . . .”
Bore him? Never. Not with the way her hand heated his arm and her voice sounded like music.
“This evening we shall be at Almack’s. It is my first time there. On Friday, we will attend Lady Featherington’s ball.”
For a minute he was struck dumb. Lord Featherington was aWhig. Then he remembered; so was Worthington. Of course Miss Stern would attendthoseentertainments. Dom would never see her except in the Park. A few years ago, after he had made it clear to any hostess with Whigish leanings thathewould not attend, the cards had ceased arriving. Yet now, the only lady he was interested in resided in a house ofliberals. He repressed a shudder.
There was Almack’s, of course, but that was only on Wednesdays. Perhaps he had been too hasty in considering Miss Stern as a marital prospect. Yet what was he to do when every other lady paled in comparison to her?
Dotty was surprised at how her hand seemed to warm on Lord Merton’s strong arm. Perhaps he had a fever and was unaware of it. He made small talk about the weather, and she responded easily. Despite what Louisa and Charlotte thought, he was really very pleasant to be around and so handsome. His hat was set at a stylish angle and his golden locks glinted in the sun.
He took her elbow, helping her over a small rut in the path. “I would not want you to trip.”
As if she was a fragile maiden instead of a lady who frequently tramped for miles in the countryside. “Thank you, my lord. Without your help, I am sure I would have stumbled.”
Louisa gave a light snort. What else was Dotty to have said? Really, Louisa was much too hard on Merton. He was a perfect gentleman. He did not know she climbed over stiles and marched through deep uneven ground at home.
“Miss Stern,” he said, bringing her attention back to him. “Do you enjoy the opera?”
“I have never had the pleasure of seeing one, but I have heard arias. I am positive I would love it.”
“I have a box.” His chest looked as if it had grown larger. “Perhaps if I made up a party, you would be willing to join it.”
He glanced down at her as she looked up at him. He seemed so nervous. “I would have to ask Grace.”
