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“And you know I wished to return to Northwood Park before the Season.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps, but you have no choice now.”
He clenched his fists in apparent frustration. “Have you come up with any other names for me?”
Davis brought tea and biscuits in and placed the tray on the table in front of them. “Do you require anything else? A maid to chaperone perhaps?”
“No, Davis. His Grace is always a perfect gentleman.” She bent over to pour the tea as the butler walked out. “Now, I have a few names for you, but I would prefer to verify their status first. Miss Jane Bigby might be a good candidate, but I am not well acquainted with her.”
“At this point, I do not care. Just find me someone.” He reached for the tea she held out for him.
As he grabbed the tea, she brushed a finger over his. Focusing on him, she searched his eyes for some reaction but did not see any change. What did she expect? It wasn’t as if the brief contact would create such turmoil that he might drop his tea. She was a fool for listening to Emma. Her sister’s head was filled with fluff from the nonsense she read.
Perhaps she needed a more direct manner. She stood, knowing as a gentleman, he would do the same. Walking across the room, she said, “Why such haste, Harry? The lady will be your wife. Finding someone who meets your every requirement will take time.”
“You have had weeks, Louisa.”
“Yes, but the mourning has put a damper on entertainment. Many people even restricted their daily calls.” She stopped in front of him, staring at a brass button on his gray waistcoat. Remembering she was supposed to act flirtatious, she said, “I do believe you have a loose button.”
She placed her hand on his chest and twisted the button until it loosened.
Hearing him suck in a breath, she smiled. He grabbed her wrist and held her hand away from him. Staring up at him, she noticed the hardness of his gray eyes seemed gone, replaced by a look that would burn the hardiest of spinsters.
“I apologize, Your Grace. I thought you would prefer I tell you than to lose a button.”
He continued to look down at her and hold her wrist, unable to break the contact. For a long moment, they continued to stare at each other. She had a fleeting thought that he might try to kiss her. Oh, how she wanted him to kiss her. Her heart pounded in her chest.
Kiss me!
If she could only say the words aloud. But would Harry kiss her if she asked? Before she could find out, the sound of the front door opening broke them apart. Hearing her mother and sister’s voices coming closer, they said nothing but returned to their seats and the tea waiting for them.
Louisa had no idea of what to say to him. As she listened to his swift breathing, she had to admit Emma might indeed be on to something.
“Shall I speak to Mrs. Smyth, then?” he finally asked.
Mrs. Smyth? Oh, yes, the musicale. Thankfully, her mother walked into the salon with Emma in tow. Mamma cast her a look of disapproval while Emma smiled over at her.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Mamma said with a tight smile.
Harry rose and bowed to them both. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Drake, Miss Emma.”
“Mamma, His Grace was just asking if we should like to attend Mrs. Smyth’s musicale this evening.”
Her mother frowned. “I am afraid we have plans to attend an intimate supper at Lady Huntley’s tonight. We were invited just this afternoon.”
Harry gave a slight nod. “Of course. I did not wish you to miss out on Mrs. Smyth’s evening of music, but since you are otherwise occupied, I shall take my leave now. I look forward to seeing you all at Lady Leicester’s ball.”
As soon as the front door closed, Mamma spoke, “I thought we had agreed that the duke should not make any more calls on us.”
“Mamma, how am I supposed to tell a duke not call on me?” Louisa inhaled deeply to keep her anger from showing.
“I like the man,” Emma added with a smile.
Her mother turned on Emma. “And will you like him if your fiancé’s mother decides His Grace is not acceptable company? Bolton may be forced to throw you over.”
Emma’s gaze moved to her lap.
Louisa desperately wanted to tell them both that it might be for the best if Emma jilted Bolton. The man was far too controlled by his mother. He and Emma could never be happy while Lady Bolton was alive, but if her sister loved him, then Louisa could try to be supportive. “I highly doubt Lady Bolton would believe a duke to be unacceptable company.”
