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“I should like that,” she said.
He leaned toward her and pressed his lips to hers, lingering, feathering his fingers along the line of her jaw before ending the kiss and moving back.
“I can hear your parents coming,” he murmured.
“What?” She blinked and sat up straight, quickly placing her hands—which had strayed to his shoulders—in her lap. There was a soft knock at the door before it opened, and her father stepped inside, followed by her mother, who was biting her upper lip as though she might cry.
“I believe I was summoned,” her father said, looking every inch the marquess that he was.
Lord Kerridge rose to his feet and bowed. “Yes, your lordship. I was hoping I might beg a few minutes of your time.”
“Certainly. If you ladies will excuse us, it appears the Earl of Kerridge and I have business to discuss.”
And just like that, Louisa found herself betrothed.
* * *
Louisa did not see Lord Kerridge at all the day following their betrothal. He sent her a note, accompanied by another large bouquet of roses, informing her that, regretfully, he would be spending the day with the Duke of Aylesham and their solicitors, hammering out the tedious details of the marriage agreement, which her father’s solicitor would then need to review and approve.
Tedious, indeed.
She stayed home, feeling unsettled. How was one to go on calls or take a stroll through Hyde Park or visit with friends and acquaintances when one was betrothed and yet not officially betrothed? People had seen her in company with Lord Kerridge and would undoubtedly ask her about him. Their betrothal wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t to be made public yet either. Until the Duke of Aylesham’s solicitors had met with her father’s solicitors and ironed out all the particulars on both sides, it would be imprudent to say anything to anyone.
It wasn’t that she felt she couldn’t converse with people and tactfully avoid the subjects of betrothal and Lord Kerridge and such. It was just that the entire business seemed exactly that. Business.
Which was silly because marriage was business. Critical business for anyone but especially for the nobility, who held lands and estates and fortunes that must be protected for posterity. Louisa understood all that. It had been ingrained in her since childhood.
And yet, today, her betrothal felt rather anticlimactic.
Never one to sit still, however, she found things to do to keep busy throughout the day. She read. She practiced the pianoforte. She sat with her mother and did needlework until she thought her eyes would cross. She read some more.
Later that afternoon, she received another note from Lord Kerridge, apologizing once again for his absence and inviting her and her parents to join him at the theater the following evening.
The negotiations are progressing, his letter said, but not at the speed with which I had hoped. We must be patient awhile longer, dear Louisa, before we may share our joyful news with others.
Since the marriage contracts involved three of the most highly ranked noblemen in England, she supposed this must be the usual way of things, and as such, she must be patient.
She decided to take her supper in her room and then retired to bed early.
It seemed she had barely fallen asleep when she awoke with a start the next morning as her mother opened her curtains and the midday sun struck her full in the face. “It is past time you got up,” Mama said. “Regardless of the negotiations the solicitors must undertake, you and I still have a wedding to plan. Up you go, now.”
Louisa moaned and rolled to her side, an arm thrown over her face to protect her eyes from the glaring sun.
“Are you ill?” Mama asked. “Is that why you excused yourself last evening?” She sat on the side of the bed. “Truly, Louisa, are you unwell?”
“No, Mama, I’m fine. I just need a moment. What time is it?”
“It’s past noon.”
Louisa sat up abruptly. Gracious, she’d slept for an age! “Tibbetts,” she called to her maid, who immediately bustled into the room. “Quickly, draw my bath. And can you please—”
“Toast and chocolate are on their way, milady, as I took the liberty when I saw her ladyship enter your room.”
“That’s a relief, for I’ve certainly overslept breakfast. I can’t believe how late it is. I must wash my hair, and we must discuss how to style it for this evening, and I need to choose a gown—something that doesn’t look like it should rain at any minute, and—”
“I don’t understand why you’re in such a state of anxiety, darling. One would almost think you were more nervous about attending the theater with Lord Kerridge tonight than you were for the Wilmington ball. Your gown for that was exquisite, and you should not take your brothers’ teasing to heart that way.”
Louisa was not in the mood to tell her mother that Lady Wilmington and even Lord Kerridge had made similar cloud comments about her gown.
