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He and Ainsley had been friends since Eaton. Ainsley would have spoken of the matter when he arrived in early December before heading on to Scotland.
“Shall we all move to the sitting room and have tea and brandy together? I wouldn’t think we should stand on convention with only four of us.” Lady Gringham wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She placed it on the table as she scraped back her chair before anyone could answer.
“I suppose we should,” Harry said as he rose from his chair. “Miss Drake, allow me to escort you in.”
He gave her his arm, and her warmth wrapped around him. A light scent of lilac floated around her, kindling his senses. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was when she smiled fully. Her entire face lit with emotion and her blue eyes twinkled. He pushed the thoughts away with force. There would be no thinking of her in such a manner.
“I do not appreciate having my request ignored,” he said quietly so the Gringhams would not hear.
“I refused to be locked in my bedchamber like a lunatic.”
“Any lady who arrives at a gentleman’s estate alone should be locked in a bedroom.” But not alone.
She broke away from him and moved to the chair by the fireplace.
He took the seat opposite her while the Gringhams sat at opposite ends of the settee. “Tea?” he asked, looking at the ladies.
“Yes, thank you,” Lady Gringham replied.
“Brandy, please,” Louisa said sweetly.
“Miss Drake, do you think that is wise?” Lady Gringham said with a slight frown. “The taking of such strong spirits is not a ladylike quality.”
“True,” she said, turning away from Harry’s smirk. “But I have taken quite a chill today, and I do believe brandy is the best course to warm me.”
Before Lady Gringham could retort, Harry said, “Very good.”
He rose and asked the footman to bring in the tea while he poured three snifters of brandy. It had taken all his control not to laugh at Lady Gringham’s comment. Louisa had been known to match him drink for drink. After handing the glass to Lord Gringham, he brought Louisa her brandy.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said before lifting the snifter to her full rosy lips.
Damnation, he had to stop thinking about her in that way. Every time he thought about her, his guilt came tumbling back to him. He would never forgive himself for what he’d done in India.
Lady Gringham chatted about various people in the ton whom Harry hadn’t seen in years. His mind drifted back to that night years ago at the Marchtons’ ball on a warm May night. Louisa had been wearing a light pink gown covered in pearls and small bows. Oh, how she’d hated that dress.
Still, after a few drinks, he couldn’t help but notice her standing alone across the room. He couldn’t explain what caused him to stare at her. Perhaps it was her height. Perhaps it was the dreadful pink gown. Perhaps it was the defiant look in her eye that told him she would rather be anywhere but in that ballroom.
Once she left the room for some air, he stalked her. When she made it quite clear that she was not interested in marriage or Society, they struck up a conversation.
He should have walked away, but he couldn’t. Instead, they talked at length a
bout the tea plantation in India. No other woman had ever been interested enough to ask about it. Every ball after that, they made it a point to sneak away and converse at length about topics far and wide.
She was, without a doubt, the most fascinating woman he’d ever met. Even today, while angry with her for bringing back memories that he’d done his best to bury, he couldn’t look away from her.
“Your Grace?”
Harry blinked and smiled at Lady Gringham, who had just placed her teacup down. He hadn’t even noticed the footman bring in the tea. “Excuse me, I was woolgathering.”
“I asked if you knew of Miss Jane Bigby?”
“I have not had the pleasure.”
Lady Gringham smiled. “She is a lovely young lady from a fine family. She is related to the Earl of Bingham if I remember correctly. This will be her second Season out. You must meet her when you come to town.”
“I am not certain I will be in town for the Season this year,” he replied flatly. He was done with the Season and Society. Now more than ever.
She waved a hand at him. “Of course you will. You have far exceeded the normal mourning period. You must come to town and find a wife.”
