Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Nineteen

Meeting the Older Sister

A few hours earlier, in the parlor of Excelsior Park

E scorting Lady Stephanie to the dining room wasn’t what James had intended that evening, but given the lack of other aristocrats to do the honors, he was forced to offer his arm to the statuesque beauty. The marquess and marchioness left the parlor first, followed by James and Stephanie. All by herself, Eloise brought up the rear.

Honey blonde, dressed in pale blue, demure, and highly refined, Lady Stephanie would have been any peer’s ideal wife.

Just not James’s.

She was far too perfect. At least, that’s how she appeared. Even with a cup of coffee in one hand, she had managed a perfect curtsy when Marguerite, Marchioness of Huntsford, introduced them.

James managed an apologetic glance in Lady Eloise’s direction when it was time to leave the parlor for the dining room. He was heartened to catch her gaze and then offered his other arm to her when they reached the stairs.

Eloise grinned in delight, apparently because the move would annoy her mother—and even better, Lady Stephanie.

He watched as she stepped up and placed her gloved hand on his proffered arm. He gave her a wink as she held her head high, descending the stairs as if she were the queen.

She could be his queen. His countess if he played his cards right. Surely, she would have a dowry close to that of Lady Stephanie’s.

That he suddenly felt affection for the young lady had him pleasantly surprised. He had expected to enter into a marriage of convenience. One in which he and his wife might only spend a few minutes together during breakfast in the morning and an hour or two together at dinner. Twenty minutes in bed at night.

With Lady Eloise, he could imagine spending an entire night in the same bed with her. They might spend twenty minutes kissing one another before he saw to her pleasure and then to his own. Another round of lovemaking at dawn and then again when they woke up to greet the day.

Well, they could if he was still in his twenties. At five-and-thirty, he might not survive three rounds of lovemaking in a single day.

As for how he could court the young lady, he imagined what they might do after dinner that night. Perhaps they could take a walk in the back garden. Steal a kiss behind a hedgerow while he cupped one of her breasts in his hand. Worry the nipple until it pebbled beneath his hold. Maybe even kiss it. Pull it between his teeth and suckle it until she cried out her desire for him.

Aware that something else was responding in a rather inappropriate manner, James was forced to think about the other daughter lest his arousal become evident.

The very last thing he wanted was for Lady Stephanie to believe he found her desirable.

“Are you acquainted with the Marquess of Weatherby, Lord Leicester?” Stephanie asked as they negotiated the landing halfway down to the ground floor.

“From Parliament, of course, my lady. I understand you’ve agreed to marry him.”

“I have,” Stephanie replied, beaming with pride. “What I find curious is that no one has yet asked me why I accepted his offer over those of eight others.”

James turned his attention to Eloise. “Tell me, Lady El. Should I take that bait, or will I find I’ve been caught in a trap?”

Eloise’s smile matched that of her sister’s. “Since I haven’t yet learned the answer to that one, I should like it very much if you took the bait.”

Surprised Stephanie hadn’t shared her reasoning with her younger sister, he said, “Tell me, my lady, why did you accept Weatherby’s offer of marriage over that of eight others?”

Stephanie angled her head closer to his and whispered, “He was the only one who was aroused in my company. Perhaps I was hasty, though, seeing as how you appear to be.”

Realizing no one else could hear her comment, James struggled to keep an impassive expression on his face. “That’s a rather interesting reason, my lady,” he managed, well aware the marchioness had turned her head as she negotiated the stairs as if she expected to hear a response. He lowered his voice. “However, any hint of it on the part of my part is entirely due to Lady El.” A bit louder, he said, “I find I am undeniably, most assuredly, completely and thoroughly in love with your sister.”

Jerking her arm from his, Lady Stephanie nearly stumbled down the last step as she glared at him. “Well, I suppose someone has to be,” she spat out, which had her parents and Eloise all turning to stare at him.

“What’s this now?” Marguerite asked, her gaze darting between James and Stephanie. Whatever arousal James might have been sporting quickly subsided.

“I was merely declaring my love for Lady El,” James said with a shrug.

Eloise inhaled softly, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

Marguerite blinked at least twice while Huntsford, looking as if he hadn’t heard a thing, said, “I share your love of those Ionian Islands, Leicester. We’ll see to it Britain provides protection, and I think I may just have to take my marchioness there when Parliament is finished for the year.”

James held his breath a moment, understanding immediately what the marquess was about. “An excellent idea, Huntsford,” James said loudly, remembering the man was hard of hearing, as well as a master of redirection.

Or perhaps pretending he had poor hearing was a ruse to make everyone believe he was deaf. The marquess could probably hear every word said within a five-foot radius!

In fact, Huntsford had probably heard what Lady Stephanie had whispered to him. Heard what James said back. Which meant…well, James couldn’t think about the repercussions of his arousal.

“So glad I could convince you,” James said with a nod. About to add that he’d like to ask the man’s permission to court Lady El, he decided it was better the two speak of it over port once dinner was finished.

Unaware his wife had let go of her hold on him, Huntsford continued on toward the dining room. Marguerite hurried to follow with Stephanie on her heels.

Turning his gaze on Eloise, James gave a shrug. “This was not how I expected to inform you of the violence of my feelings…” Once again, he couldn’t complete his sentence when Eloise grabbed his lapels in her gloved hands, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said as she let go of him and then smoothed his lapels as if she were his valet.

James took one of her hands in his and kissed the back of it. “You’re going to exhaust me in the marriage bed, aren’t you?”

She gave him a surprised look, then she became the model of a demure young woman. “Why, I don’t know what you mean, my lord.”

“Minx,” he accused as he turned and led them into the dining room.