Chapter Fourteen
T hey did not dally in his entrance hall, nor go directly into a drawing room. Rather, they traversed his home front to back, finally stopping before paned doors leading to an elegant brick-and-stone terrace.
With honesty she hoped did not offend, Brilliance told the back of Lord Hewitt’s handsome head, “I can see why you were ready to leave Lady Twitchard’s home, as elegant and comfortable as it is, in order to return here.”
Then she glanced at Lady Twitchard, “Meaning no disrespect, my lady.”
Lady Twitchard merely nodded. “I have always thought Joyden’s Wood to be a lovely spot. You have maintained the house well, Cousin.”
“Thank you,” Lord Hewitt said. “I hope you ladies are famished, as my cook has everything prepared. However, if you prefer to take a tour first, then she can, with some persuasion, hold the meal.”
Brilliance did not mind whatever they did. She was still waiting for that moment when he gazed directly into her eyes. Perhaps then, her appetite would come roaring back.
For the moment, she would rather be alone with him more than anything else — certainly preferable to trailing along while Lady Georgiana monopolized all his attention, or worse, watched while her fellow females pretended they had the tiniest birdlike appetites when she knew they could eat as much as any man.
Lady Twitchard made the decision for them. “I am ready for a cup of tea and a smattering of both savory and sweet.”
“Grand,” he said. “I thought, given the weather, that we would eat outside.”
Miss Newton clapped her hands. “How clever of you, my lord. I love eating outside. Why, if I had my choice, I would take every meal out of doors if it meant having a view of your estate, my lord.”
Brilliance could not help rolling her eyes. “Even if it were thick with frost?” she wondered aloud.
Miss Newton sent a sour look her way.
“You have not yet seen the view from my back terrace,” Lord Hewitt pointed out.
“Undoubtedly, it is lovely,” Lady Georgiana professed, “with a name like Mirabel.”
“What if it were the ugliest parcel of land in all England?” Brilliance couldn’t help asking. “Would you still want to sit outside? What if you were looking at five-foot weeds covered in bugs? Or a rubbish pile of old bones?”
Paling, Miss Newton made a face, and Lady Georgiana appeared downright annoyed.
“Why would you mention vulgarities when we are about to dine?” she asked. “And why would you insinuate, even in jest, that his lordship would have any such thing in his garden?”
Had she insulted him? Brilliance was ready to apologize, but his expression was amused, not angry.
“I tell you what, Lady Brilliance,” Lord Hewitt said, finally addressing her directly and stepping closer so the others could not see his face, “I think we should go right outside and see if the view suits you.”
And then, to her delight, he winked before placing her arm on his. She sighed. It was so very nice to be touching him again and to be touched by him.
“How wise of you,” she said, “although I confess that I don’t give a fig about seeing the sights from your terrace. It is the company that brought me here today.”
He put his free hand over his heart. “How kind of you to say.”
That earned her a dagger-sharp look from Lady Georgiana.
But Miss Newton managed to get in front of Lord Hewitt. “Naturally, it is your company that brought me here, too, my lord.”
“So not merely my terraced lawn and pretty gardens?”
Miss Newton laughed as if he’d said the funniest thing. Brilliance thought both girls were addlepated. They hadn’t behaved nearly so strangely when there were more gentlemen around. It would seem the scarcity was bringing out their competitive nature.
What a pity for them that she had already kissed him!
A naughty thought, but true nonetheless. Brilliance didn’t worry for an instant that they could usurp her in his affections. After all, he had already told her she was the loveliest woman at the country party, and they were no prettier than they had been all week. Besides, not that she thought Lord Hewitt cared, but she had heard men greatly appreciated the sizable dowry of an earl’s daughter.
Sometimes, it was simply good to be Brilliance Diamond.
And then they stepped out the rear of his house, and she exclaimed at its beauty.
“Why, how clever of you to have both cultivated and natural gardens,” she said.
“It makes it interesting, to be sure,” he said. “Which do you prefer?”
Brilliance looked at the various elements, the tidy rose garden, the soaring arbors, the wildflowers in clumped displays interspersed with fountains and birdbaths. And topiaries grander even than Lady Twitchard’s.
“The harmony makes it difficult to choose,” she said, “but the wildflowers certainly hold their own. I suppose they speak to my own nature, the part that exasperates those who wish I would behave predictably.”
Silence met her words until Lady Georgiana made a sound of exasperation and spoke up.
“I don’t mind saying I prefer the fragrant roses. They are the perfect floral embodiment of England, after all.”
Miss Newton agreed, “Besides, I cannot tell the difference between a wildflower and a weed, but I always know a rose.”
Brilliance rolled her eyes. Drivel! Could they not for one moment say something original or have a unique thought?
Lady Twitchard spoke up. “I, also, think it brave to blend the two. Some will say it is an unforgivable juxtaposition. For my preference, I wouldn’t have the courage to let my gardens be natural, not even in the smallest part.”
Brilliance laughed. “That’s peculiar, isn’t it? Worrying over whether nature is too natural.”
Lady Twitchard laughed, too, and they dropped the subject.
Lord Hewitt drew out a chair for his cousin while a footman seated the rest of them at a round, white rattan table. They had cold chicken and ham sandwiches followed by freshly baked lemon cookies.
“Your cook knows her way around the kitchen,” Brilliance said, trying out the term.
“Thank you,” Lord Hewitt said. “I will pass on your praises to her.”
“On the house tour,” she continued, “we shall see if your housekeeper knows her way around the bedroom.”
Lady Twitchard gave a small gasp while Miss Newton and Lady Georgiana burst out in inexplicable laughter. Lord Hewitt merely coughed into his napkin.
“What did I say?” Brilliance asked.
“Never mind,” Lady Twitchard said. “Another cup of tea?”
Vincent had surprised himself by inviting the small group of females so soon after leaving Alethia’s. And if he were honest with himself, had he been able to invite only Lady Brilliance, he would have.
That in itself bore examination. He had grown used to the lady’s company over the course of the sennight. His first day and night in his own home had felt a little lonely. That might be attributed merely to having been surrounded for a week by other people, but it was Brilliance’s presence, speaking with her, hearing her laughter, looking at her animated face — all those things he had greatly missed.
Now, seeing her in his home, he thought she belonged at Mirabel just as well as the roses in his garden, the whimsical mat of dark green ivy he allowed to climb up the eastern side of his home, and the wildflowers she’d admired.
Trying not to let emotions run away with him, still, he was determined to have a few minutes alone with her. He would have to enlist Alethia’s assistance, not to mention her permission.
Thus, when they were in the middle of the tour of his house, on the second floor where a back bedroom gave a panorama of his gardens and the fields beyond, he managed to hold his cousin back.
Lowering his voice, he asked her, “Would you be amenable to allowing me five minutes to speak privately with Lady Brilliance?”
She gave him a long look, her eyebrows raised.
“Give me credit, Cousin,” Vincent said. “I would hardly ask you to give me leave had I poor intentions.”
“What are your intentions?”
He wished he knew. “I would simply like a moment of her time. I want to express my admiration for her and see if she might like to come visit me again.” He paused. “ Without the other ladies.”
“I see.”
“If I try to pay a visit to her at Bexley Hall ...” He trailed off.
“The other ladies would learn too much,” his cousin surmised, “and begin to wonder if anything had occurred over the past week.”
“Precisely,” he said. Vincent kept his gaze on the three females peering out the window. He’d told them they might be able to see the same ruins where they’d enjoyed their picnic. “Your tone is not entirely approving.”
Alethia sighed. “I wish you were speaking with her mother rather than with me.”
“It is not as if I am asking for her hand,” he said. Although he now believed they might continue along a path with an engagement as the natural progression. And then, of course, marriage.
Lady Hewitt . That sounded beyond satisfactory.
“I think she may be the one,” he heard himself saying aloud.
His cousin looked over at her three charges. “I think she’s a rare find. Just make sure you don’t ask her, not without her parents’ permission.”
“Of course not.”
“Then I shall help you in any way I can.” Alethia left his side to go over to the three young ladies.
He couldn’t hear what she said, but Lady Georgiana and Miss Newton answered exuberantly in the affirmative and then departed the room with Alethia. Lady Brilliance was left standing by herself.
She looked at him. “Did you make that happen?”
She was astute and unafraid. He admired her more and more, but he was curious.
“What did my cousin say to them?”
“Lady Twitchard asked if they wished to see your bedchamber.”
The deuce! “She did not! Did she?”
“She did.” Lady Brilliance was smiling broadly.
He thought of those ladies gawking at his private space, examining his pillow to see if there was an indent from his head, perhaps even finding a stray stocking or cravat.
“But that’s my personal space. She cannot —” Vincent stopped and took a breath. “Why didn’t you go with them?”
“Because I would far prefer spending my time with you.”
Putting his head back, he laughed from deep in his belly. She was a gem, indeed.
Brilliance spread her hands. “After all, if things turn out well between us, then I’ll be seeing your bedroom for myself when it is only the two of us.”
He sobered quickly. They were thinking along the same lines, but it still was alarming to be in the company of an absolutely plain-spoken female.
“I take it you can imagine it being our bedroom,” he said.
“I don’t see why not,” she said. “Although it would be nice to have a chamber of my own, to get away from you.”
“Get away?” He felt almost affronted. “Why would you want to do that?”
It was her turn to laugh. “When we have an argument, for instance, and you are too pigheaded to see that you’re wrong.”
“I’m not sure I care for the term pigheaded . Maybe I wouldn’t be wrong.”
“See,” she said, “that sounds pigheaded to me. Of course you would be wrong. Why else would I need to get away from you? My mother oft needs a break from my father.”
She nodded sagely. “Or I might simply need a place to collect my thoughts, perhaps to quietly read a book or take a nap. This room, for instance, seems ideal.”
Lady Brilliance glanced around, and they both ended up looking at the bed.
Vincent’s imagination had them naked and entangled on the counterpane in under two seconds.
“Would I be allowed to come find you in here?” he asked. “Perhaps to apologize for my pigheadedness?”
Together, they still looked at the bed. He had never noticed how comfortable it appeared, nor how inviting.
“I think that would be acceptable,” she said, her tone a little husky.
He wondered if her thoughts matched his, with him rising over her, his knee nudging her legs apart before his body settled between her thighs. He longed to see her smooth stomach bowed with anticipation and her breasts arching ripely for him to worship.
“Then that would be a good compromise,” he agreed, not having expected to be discussing living arrangements. But that, he realized, was quintessential Brilliance, taking him on a path along which he knew not whether it would end.
“Where would you go?” she asked.
Vincent frowned. “Where would I go when?” he retorted.
“There might be some situations in which I might make you want to tear your hair from your head.”
“How clever of you to deduce that you might not always be right,” he said.
She shrugged. “You might simply not see the rightness at first. In any case, if we were sharing a bedroom, then where would you go?”
“There are plenty of other rooms, including my study. Would you like to see it?”
“We ought to catch up with the others,” she said. “We have been alone long enough to shred my reputation should anyone spend a moment thinking about how we vanished from the group. Time enough that we might have reclined upon that bed and been very improper.”
Now he wished he hadn’t wasted the time jabbering when they could have been behaving improperly. But he had promised his cousin something. He couldn’t recall, except he wouldn’t blurt out a marriage proposal.
“Will you come visit again?” he asked as they stepped into the hallway. “Without the others, I mean?”
Her smile was glorious. “I have no notion how that will be possible without the cooperation of Lady Twitchard, but I am amenable to doing so should the circumstance arise.”
Vincent would ensure that it did.