Page 26 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

“First, I have encouraged her to go out more often, not just to balls, but to events where she can wear her hats and bonnets.” Miss Locke chuckled and released his arm.

Not a moment too soon as his nether regions had become agitated by his overall warmth.

“Lady Letitia was very accepting of that suggestion. So she may begin to ask you to take her to the theatre, or to museums, or even Vauxhall.” His companion grabbed his arm again, and Marcus gritted his teeth. “I do hope you will allow her to go there. It would be so good for her if you got up a party.”

He groaned, the fire she ignited in him racing from head to toe.

“Oh, come, my lord.” She shook his sleeve as though she were a terrier with a rat. “You must allow her to experience the thrills of Vauxhall.”

“Of course, Miss Locke. I do agree.” He would’ve agreed to anything if only she’d release him. He wasn’t going to be able to stand much more of this torture. In about thirty seconds, he would pull the horses to a stop, grasp Miss Locke by the shoulders, and plant a kiss on her that would convince the world she’d already agreed to marry him.

The lady let go of his sleeve, and Marcus could’ve wept with relief. “Thank you so much for your interest in my sister’s welfare. I knew another woman would be able to ascertain how best to help Letitia.”

“Oh, and that is not the only thing you must do, Lord Haversham.” She turned eagerly to him, and Marcus braced himself for another onslaught of fire. “You must help her get to know the gentlemen she will be partnering during the Season.”

Frowning, Marcus headed the curricle toward a certain tree he’d spied yesterday in the park. “Do you have a plan as to how I can do that?”

“Yes, I do. Would you like to hear it?” She leaned dangerously close to him.

“Of course, but I think I need to pay absolute attention to you.” He pulled the horses to a stop, and his tiger ran around to hold their heads. “Let us stop here for a while so I can give you and your plan my complete attention.” He jumped down, discreetly checking his trousers for signs of tenting. Thankful there were none, Marcus strode around to the other side of the curricle and helped Miss Locke descend.

“Do you mean for us to stand here and talk?” Her brow was furrowed as she glanced about. “We could just as easily go back to The Manse.”

“Ah, but then we could not do what I’ve expressly brought you here to do.” He gazed down at her, a strange hunger burning brightly in his chest.

“And what is that, my lord?” Her narrowed eyes gleamed at him.

“Have a picnic, of course.”

****

His statement took Kate sorely aback. She’d not thought of this ride as an outing of any kind, but merely a way for them to speak in private about his sister. Although, as she’d just stated, they could’ve done that in her receiving room at the townhouse. So was Lord Haversham actually courting her while trying to make it seem as if she was merely helping his sister? The man was devious, so she wouldn’t put it past him. “You did not tell me we would be picnicking, my lord.”

“My way of thanking you for the interest you’ve taken in Letitia. I am terribly grateful to you, Miss Locke.” He motioned to his tiger, and the servant hurried to the rear of the curricle and returned with a large blanket and an even larger wicker picnic basket. Lord Haversham offered her his arm. “This way, if you please.”

If the man hadn’t been so charming, she might’ve refused him. And if he was trying to court her, she’d bet her entire wardrobe Nathan had put him up to it. Had her brother realized, as she had, that her choice of husband had dwindled to one? And was Haversham truly interested in her, or was he doing this as a favor to his friend? Well, she doubted any man would woo a woman he disliked just to accommodate his friend. Friendship did have limits. So perhaps Haversham had an actual liking for her. A flicker of something, Kate didn’t quite know what, flared in her chest.

“You are full of surprises, my lord.” She took the arm he offered, her heart fluttering strangely.

“I have to keep you off guard, Miss Locke.” He grinned down at her. “That’s the only way I can ever hope to stay ahead of you.”

“Indeed, my lord. You can scarcely do it even then.”

“Sad but true. Still,” his eyes twinkled at her, “that is the fun of the game, is it not?”

Smiling in spite of herself, Kate nodded as they approached the thick blue jacquard cover the tiger had spread on the ground. She dropped gracefully onto it and stretched her legs, excited by the prospect of a picnic. They were one of her favorite ways of eating al fresco.

Lord Haversham sat sprawled beside her and pulled the wicker basket to him. “Let’s see if Cook’s outdone herself as usual.” He unpacked a substantial bowl of greens mixed with various meats, cheeses, and boiled eggs. “Salmagundi. A delicious start to our repast.”

The servant passed him plates and silverware, and Haversham neatly scooped the salad onto their plates.

“Ah, and what would a picnic be without a pie.” He withdrew an enormous pie tin, the flaky crust sitting well above the rim. “Chicken pie, I suspect. It’s Cook’s favorite.” Moments later, he plopped a huge slice of the savory onto her plate, the gravy oozing out making Kate’s mouth water. “There’s also bread and cheese, frosted cakes, and fruit.” He turned his dark eyes on her, and Kate’s heart beat faster. “What’s your pleasure, Miss Locke?”

Without thinking, she almost said, “You.” Appalled at that bizarre response, she couldn’t think what to say, but at last managed, “Bread and cheese, please.”

“We’ll leave the desserts in the basket for now.” He passed her the plate and silverware, and Kate gratefully lowered her gaze to the food. “You were going to explain to me how to help my sister with her suitors.” Haversham shoveled a huge piece of the pie into his mouth. “Will you tell me?”

Kate swallowed carefully—her mouth was dry, and the bread didn’t help that—and began on her plan. “I think instead of making Lady Letitia meet the gentlemen of the ton all at once, at a ball or entertainment, you should invite them one by one to meet her at home. That way she will come to view them as friends and will hopefully be less shy around them when they ask her for a dance or to sit with them at a musical evening.” She forked up another bite of pie, relishing the creamy goodness. “That way you can also become better acquainted with them and ascertain if any of them are scoundrels.”