Page 12 of Miss Kimble Bites Back

She had two more callers, both polite and interesting gentlemen, after that. She found herself repeating the same pleasantries and questions to each gentleman, and they went on their way with a professed hope to see her again at a future social engagement.

The door knocker boomed through the house then. Tibbs scampered back to his post to answer it, and Gabby set her flowers aside.

Tibbs returned. “Viscount Brookes.”

Gabby could not hide her surprise at the news. Brookes hadn’t been expected, but he was the one man she had truly hoped to see in their parlor.

She put on her most pleasing smile. “Do show him in.”

Tibbs glanced at Bennett. “He wishes to speak with Mr. Kimble first, and alone.”

Bennett frowned and stood, tugging down his waistcoat. “Does he now? Well, you may show the viscount to my study. I’ll see him there in a moment.”

Gabby waited until Tibbs was gone before she spoke up. “What could he want to say to you in private?”

“I don’t know,” Bennett said, frowning a little.

“Bennett, what will you say if he asks for my hand in marriage?” she whispered, pulse beginning to race at the prospect. Surely it was too soon to have decided that. But then again, Gabby had fallen for Lord Brookes the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

Bennett stopped beside her chair. “I cannot believe he knows you well enough. Do not get your hopes up. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Gabby watched Bennett leave and the door fall closed behind him, but she could not remain seated. She crept to the closed door to listen as Lord Brookes was welcomed into the town house and shown to Bennett’s study.

Hearing nothing after that, she opened the door a crack wider and set her eye to the gap. The hallway was empty and offered no new information, so she closed it again, turned away and moved toward the front windows.

Lord Brookes’ gleaming high-perch phaeton stood outside their town house, attended by only a small boy. Her neighbors across the street were at their windows though, peeking out at the gleaning black and gold carriage, too.

And then a pair of black horses pulling another carriage came into view behind it. Gabby drew back a little, wishing not to be seen by anyone inside. The larger carriage had to stop, and grooms rushed forward to berate the boy holding Lord Brookes’ carriage in position on the narrow street--yelling that it was in the way.

Gabby turned around quickly as the drawing room door creaked open, and Bennett and Lord Brookes strode in one after the other. She quickly rushed back to the center of the room and dipped a curtsey for Lord Brookes. “My lord, welcome.”

Brookes beamed a smile her way. “Ah, Miss Kimble. A pleasure to see you here this morning.”

“Please, won’t you sit down,” she said, gesturing to a chair nearby.

“I’m afraid I’ve not the time to linger today, but it was important to make this call,” he said.

Gabby looked at Bennett for guidance, but his expression was inscrutable right now. She would have to wait until Lord Brookes was gone before she could ask about their conversation. Unless…

She turned her best smile on Lord Brookes. “I’m very sorry we did not have an opportunity to speak to each other last night.”

“I was too,” he promised. “Your friend, Miss Dawes, was a jolly good sort for a dance and swore you had much in common.”

Thank you, Justine! “Miss Dawes, and Miss Ellis, too, are the best people I know and the dearest of friends.”

“It is good to have good friends,” Brookes agreed, glancing at Bennett. “I should hate to attend a party where no one likes each other.”

“So would I,” she agreed wholeheartedly.

“It is a pleasant day. I was thinking to myself as I arrived that everyone should enjoy the early mornings together in London. A pity balls are not held a great deal earlier.”

Gabby laughed softly. “Then it would not be a ball and there would be no need for the candles that make the room seem so magical.”

Brookes’ smile faltered. “Yes, well, of course. Truly, that would be a shame, too.”

“Perhaps you could convince someone you know well to give it a try for you at least once,” Bennett suggested dryly.

“Yes. I could ask someone, I suppose,” Brookes murmured, seeming a little unsure of himself now. But his smile returned the next moment. “Lady Windermere served a wonderful punch last night. I’m sure you must have tried it.”