Page 27 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

“I assure you, Lord Somersby will not attend Letitia ever.” Lord Haversham gave a firm shake of his head, and stabbed a piece of meat from the salad so forcefully the fork clinked on the China.

Laughing, Kate finished her pie and moved onto the salad as well. “I’ll be surprised if Lord Somersby ever finds a bride. Everyone in the ton knows what kind of cad he is.”

Lord Haversham shook his head. “Some matchmaking mama will decide the game is worth the candle and throw her daughter at him—with orders to make him compromise her or else. Many a parent would likely disregard Somersby’s behavior to have their child wear a marchioness’s coronet.”

“You are right about that. Some people put position above all else.” She gave him a sideways glance. “I am glad you are not one of those.”

“Thank you. I am happy to have found favor with you at last, Miss Locke.”

Kate kept her gaze on her plate, wishing she could bury her head in it to hide her red cheeks. Thank goodness Haversham had never seen that list.

Plink!

Something had struck the side of her bonnet. Confused, she looked over at Lord Haversham just in time to see him hurl another missile at her.

Plink!

The soft projectile caught her on her chin as her jaw dropped open. She glanced down at the blanket to find two fat red grapes just coming to rest. “Lord Haversham!”

“Yes, Miss Locke?” He pelted her with another grape, this one striking the shoulder of her Spencer and bouncing into the grass.

Kate grabbed the two grapes at her side and fired them quickly at her adversary. The first one went wide, but the second found its mark squarely in the middle of his broad chest. Laughing, she glanced around but spied nothing else she could use to retaliate. Lord Haversham was taking grapes directly out of the picnic basket. “No fair, Haversham. You’ve stolen all the ammunition.”

“All’s fair in love and war, Miss Locke.” He aimed carefully and lobbed another grape so it came down on the top of her bonnet and stayed there.

“Wretch!” Kate made a grab and captured the wicker basket. “Aha!” She thrust her hand into the basket, grasped the first object she found, and threw it directly at Haversham’s head. Her aim was perfect this time, but she’d had the misfortune to grab not a grape but one of the iced cakes. The confection hit Lord Haversham squarely in the nose, leaving pink icing glistening all over his face.

Appalled, Kate covered her mouth, certain the wrath of God was about to descend on her. So she was truly shocked when the man laughed loudly, produced a handkerchief, and proceeded to scrape the gooey mess from his nose, cheeks, and chin.

“Well aimed of such a young one,” he commented, another line from Shakespeare’s Shrew.

“That’s Katherine’s line.” She ventured a smile at him, amazed at his continued good humor.

“I thought it better mine, in the circumstances.” He finished scrubbing his face and was about to toss the soiled handkerchief in the basket when she stopped him.

“You missed a spot.”

“I’m not surprised.” He held the handkerchief before his face. “Where is it?”

“You’d better let me do it.” Kate knelt before him, took the now-pink scrap of cotton, and brushed at the spatters he’d missed near his jaw. The sudden realization of how close she was to him hit her, and her stomach clenched. His dark eyes studied her—she could see her reflection in their mahogany depths.

“I believe you owe me a forfeit for that last hit, Miss Locke.” His mouth was so close to hers she couldn’t look away.

“Wh…what forfeit would that be my lord?” Her words came out a whisper.

“The first waltz at Lady Camden’s ball tonight.”

Kate sat back, letting out the breath she’d been holding, and recovered as best she could. “Only one, my lord?”

He raised one sardonic eyebrow. “That will depend on what other mischief you get into.”

Chapter 12

Lady Camden’s elegant ballroom was crowded, however that was only to be expected this early in the Season. At least there was sufficient room to breathe, although not much. Kate stood pressed against Celinda on one side and Nathan on the other, searching the excited throng for Lord Haversham. After their spirited exchange this afternoon, she found herself actually looking forward to seeing him tonight—and even more surprisingly eager to pay her forfeit and dance the waltz with him.

Kate had chosen one of her favorite gowns this evening, the cornflower blue muslin, shot through with silver and trimmed in the same sparkling color. Gold tones might have highlighted her hair better, but this particular shade of blue did something to the color of her eyes that made people take notice. At least that was what Celinda had told her. Why she’d chosen this gown, when she had no more hope of Lord Finley than the man in the moon, she wasn’t quite sure. Or if she did have an inkling, she didn’t want to think about it. Not yet anyway. She still had serious reservations about Lord Haversham’s character, even though she’d mentally deleted two of the items on her list. He still had the first five to make amends for, if such a thing could be done. Which reminded her to speak to Nathan about that list. Turning to her brother, Kate caught sight of Lord Haversham, Lady George, and Lady Letitia entering the ballroom.

Immediately, she straightened her back, trying to make herself look taller and ensure that her gown fell in the perfect folds of a Grecian statue. Raising her chin, she smiled, trying to catch Lord Haversham’s eye. One never knew but that the orchestra might play a waltz to begin the first set.