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She scowled at him. “I do not believe in speaking ill of the dead, but your father was an ass. My Aunt Jacintha died in childbirth several years ago, and her babe was very small. I believe it happens and it was terrible of him to blame you when he should have loved you endlessly because you were a part of her.”
James smiled. “Thank you.”
They stared at each other for several moments before she glanced away. He was curious about the blush reddening her cheeks and wondered what lingered within that mind of hers.
“You speak quite well for a man who grew u
p without formal education.”
“My solace was found in books and from their pages my mind was edified. The village raised me. The servants raised me. I learned French from the village’s dressmaker. They took their wages, pooled them together and bought me books and sweet treats. It was at their tables I enjoyed dinners and Christmas. It was at their homes I learned about family and love. So when they needed me, I fought for them.” And now his village and earldom were one of the most prosperous. Society would not bring him to shame for how he had attained his wealth.
A soft smile lit her face. “You are incredible, my lord. It must have been scary to be presented at court.”
“I shook in my boots and bumbled in my speech,” he said with a rueful smile. “But at the end, all was well.”
The carriage slowed, and she shifted the small curtain by the windows. “We are in St. James,” she said with a curious look his way.
“Yes.”
“And we are slowing for the queue.”
“Yes.”
“Should we—”
“No.”
An amused smile curved her generous lips. “You had no notion of my question.”
“You wanted to know if we should descend and walk.”
“Impressive,” she said teasingly, before sobering.
“I want you to understand my rules before we enter. You are a lady, disguised as a young gent. Keep your head down. Do not speak unless absolutely necessary. And stay by my side at all times. If you must talk, deepen your voice, and speak low. To play the part you will also be required to nurse a drink. Whisky. Do not drink it. Simply…hold it, and sip occasionally. Is that understood, Lady Verity.”
She nodded and he almost smiled at the shimmer of excitement in her golden eyes.
“Now take the time to compose yourself.”
She tested that the short dark wig was firmly in place, tugged at her cravat, and even fiddled with her hat.
The carriage lurched ahead slowly and he relaxed against the squabs. She licked her lips, and he wished by all that was holy he could disguise those too. They were so lush, carnal, and kissable. Only a damn fool would think that wicked mouth belonged to a young man.
“I believe our first lesson should be on dancing,” she said unexpectedly.
“If you think that is best.”
A winsome smile curved her lips and drove the air from his lungs. “For God’s sakes,” he muttered, tugging at his cravat. “Under no circumstances must you smile tonight. None.”
She made no reply to his request, but said, “Dancing is the first step in courtship. I believe it was understandable that Lady Susanna felt…slighted that you have never asked her to dance or observed any of the proper courtship rituals. Your proposal felt like a business transaction. So yes, we shall start with the elegant and beautiful art of dancing.”
He nodded his agreement, thinking that maybe he had really approached courting of the lady in the wrong manner. Dancing, poetry, and flowers. Simple but clearly very important. And he thought about what they communicated and drew a blank. If every suitor asked for dances, recited poetry, and delivered flowers, how in God’s name was any of it special?
Lady Verity cleared her throat. “Is Lady Susanna the only lady you saw who you believed would make you a fine countess.”
“She was the first lady to look at me,” he said gruffly. The lady had flirted shamelessly with him at one of her father’s political dinners. It had been an encouragement of sorts, except he had clearly ignored all the rules of courtship and had made an offer after a few more stilted meetings.
“What do you mean?”
