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She cast her gaze around, looking for something to do so she could escape her thoughts. When she heard a throat clear right behind her, she actually jumped. She turned to find Lowenbrock standing there. Her gaze moved behind him and she spotted the other woman glaring at them, her expression thunderous.
Amelia could not hold back her relief as she greeted the marquess. She took the arm he offered, and they began another sweep of the fairgrounds. Looking up at him, she said, “You acquitted yourself well.”
His expression didn’t change. “Not well enough to win.”
She made a sound that could be taken for agreement. “I saw Mr. Jeffers.”
Lowenbrock met her gaze and looked away. “He did say he planned to attend.”
Amelia leaned a little closer, making sure to keep her voice low. “He believes you purposely lost the competition.”
“Does he now?”
Amelia examined his expression. This was a man who would not easily give up his secrets. “Did you?”
One small corner of his mouth lifted, but he didn’t reply.
Amelia took that as assent and her already high estimation of his character rose even higher.
Chapter 18
As the day progressed, they were accosted several times by young women hoping to catch Lowenbrock’s eye. Not one of them would be socially acceptable as a match for the marquess, but that didn’t stop them from propositioning him.
Not outright, of course. Not with her standing right beside him most of the time. But it was clear they were hoping he’d spend time with them. There were even a few married women who tried their luck.
Amelia supposed she should count herself lucky that the eligible women had quit the area for London. But those whose search for a husband on the marriage mart proved fruitless would return even more determined to ensnare the marquess for themselves. When they arrived at the ball and saw for themselves just how handsome he was, they would be relentless. And when Lowenbrock wed, her time at Brock Manor would come to an end. Not because Lowenbrock would ask her to leave. And it was possible that whomever he wed wouldn’t take issue with her remaining in residence.
No, watching all those women trying to capture the marquess’s eye made her realize she couldn’t live under the same roof with Lowenbrock and his future wife. Not when it was clear she couldn’t see him with another woman without experiencing the irrational sting of jealousy.
It was obvious to her that she had come to care for this man as more than just a friend. It was possible she was already falling in love with him. It was also clear, from his circumspect behavior toward her, that he didn’t return the sentiment.
Or at least she didn’t think he did. She couldn’t but help wonder if he was hiding his feelings. If there was one thing she knew about the marquess, it was that he would never take advantage of someone he considered one of his charges. He was generous enough to lose a competition on purpose if that person needed the prize money, and he’d done so in a manner that wouldn’t wound the man’s pride. It was entirely possible he would go out of his way to hide any attraction he might feel toward her.
Not likely, but possible.
By the time he helped her up into the carriage for their return trip home, a terrible idea had taken shape. She tried to push it aside, engaging in small talk with Lowenbrock to distract herself, but it was no use. She couldn’t ignore the way his smile made her heart flutter. And the way his eyes crinkled in the corners with genuine amusement as he recounted an amusing tale about his nieces and nephews only served to increase just how attractive she found this man.
When the carriage pulled up in front of the house, she sympathized with all those women who had thrown themselves at him. And she’d come to the decision that she was going to do the same thing.
She hadn’t even realized she’d become quiet as she tried to imagine how to go about accomplishing it. She’d seen all manner of approaches that day. What would it be like to bask in this man’s attention for a brief time?
She hesitated when Lowenbrock stepped down from the carriage and held his hand out to her.
Now that she’d come to the decision that she wanted this man to teach her about the intimacy that could be found between a man and a woman, every interaction between them took on a new significance. The simple act of placing her hand on his arm as he led her into the house—something she’d done numerous times that day as they strolled through the fair—left her feeling tongue-tied. She said nothing as Hastings opened the door for them and took her spencer and gloves. It was around the time they normally took their dinner, but given how much food they’d sampled throughout the day, neither of them were hungry.
Deep in thought, she wandered into the drawing room and took a seat on the settee.
Normally Lowenbrock sat in one of the chairs, but today he chose to sit next to her, and given her new awareness of the man, her thoughts all but scattered.
“What are you thinking that has you so quiet? It seems as though you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
Amelia glanced at him and took in the way his forehead had wrinkled. She vacillated for a moment before squaring her shoulders. She was no longer a young girl. If all those other women could do this, so could she.
“I couldn’t help but notice all the attention you attracted today.”
His brows drew together. “That was to be expected. While I still find it difficult to believe I’ve inherited all this…” He waved his hand to indicate the house and everything that came along with it, then lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’ve met most of the tenants, but they’re still curious about me. And there were many there today who’d never met me before. I’m not sure why that would surprise you.”
Amelia summoned all the bravery she’d needed the night she’d dressed so provocatively and pretended to be the barmaid Molly. “There were more than a few women who seemed to want to get to know you better.”
