Chapter 20 #3
Actually, he thought he would be better off sitting whilst he had the chance, so he retreated to the sofa.
He sat with a sigh, leaned back against the couch, and contented himself with watching her.
He had told her that it was stories of her that had first left him half in love with her, but that was simply a part of it.
He had looked at her as she stood in the middle of Sedgwick’s great hall and felt something in his soul shift, then settle.
It had nothing to do with her beauty, or figure, or the way she had of putting her shoulders back and marching off into the fray.
He had watched her smile and just known she was the one for him.
“It’s David,” she said.
Stephen found himself brought back to the present without mercy.
He waved her on without comment because he could do nothing else.
She frowned at him, then answered her phone.
Stephen tried not to listen, but unfortunately his house was very quiet and he had very good hearing.
The only thing that eased him any was that she didn’t sound too terribly thrilled by her conversation.
“Tomorrow night?” Peaches said slowly. “Well, I’m not sure where Chattam Hall is— Oh, London. I see.”
Stephen dragged his hand through his hair.
Damn it. Chattam Hall belonged to his maternal grandmother who held court there each Saturday.
He’d completely forgotten the upcoming weekend spectacle of supper and entertainment, though in his defense, he had been slightly preoccupied during the past few days.
In the past, those Saturday parties had included his hobnobbing with politicians and his grandmother’s steely eye looking over the women he danced with.
At least he didn’t have to worry about Victoria vying for his attentions at present.
Unfortunately even with her out of the picture, it wasn’t exactly the ideal situation in which to introduce Peaches to his grandmother.
But it was for damned sure he wasn’t going to let her go with David Preston if he could prevent it.
He looked at Peaches and shook his head firmly.
She shot him a look he couldn’t quite interpret. “Lord Haulton’s grandmother? No, I didn’t understand the connection. I have no idea if he’ll be there or not.”
Stephen pointed at her, then at himself, then he nodded pointedly.
Peaches ignored him. “I’m not sure what my plans are for the weekend. Let me call you back, all right?”
Stephen held up his hands as she rang off. “Honestly, it had completely slipped my mind. It isn’t exactly anything I look forward to.”
“Standing dates with the Terrible Trio?” she asked lightly.
He took a deep breath. “I have no idea, but it wouldn’t surprise me. My grandmother’s guest list is always extensive, so I’m sure they’ll be there. Well, perhaps not Victoria, who has never, ever spent the night at my house. If you were curious.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
She sighed as she walked across the room and collapsed onto the couch next to him. “Then I probably shouldn’t go.”
“Of course you should,” he said. “With me.”
“Stephen,” she said seriously, “I can’t date you.”
“Actually, you can do quite a bit more than that with me, but I am willing to concede that there needs to be some carefully premeditated maneuvering with my grandmother if we’re to keep her from thinking too long on the fact that she hasn’t had a hand in our relationship.
” That was perhaps understating the potential for his grandmother’s ire, but there was no point in worrying over it beforehand.
As he had told Peaches before, he was capable of choosing his own path.
Whether others would agree with that path or not was something he couldn’t control.
He sighed. “I suppose you could allow Kenneworth to take you there if you think you can stomach him. I’ll see that John and Tess are invited so they can take you home.
” He shot her a look. “First and last time, though, Peaches.”
She considered, then picked up her phone and texted her change of mind. Then she set her phone down and looked at him seriously.
“Even if this were possible,” she said slowly, “I’m not sure how this would work.”
“One step at a time,” he said easily.
She took a deep breath. “What’s the first step?”
“We get through the evening tomorrow after you’ve spent the day in London being pampered.”
“More things to work off,” she said with a sigh.
“More herding,” he corrected, then he paused. “Peaches, if I’m pushing you too fast, or pushing you in a direction you’re not interested in …”
“What?” she asked politely. “You’ll stop?”
He was tempted to match her tone, but he couldn’t. “I might,” he said simply.
She studied him in silence for a moment or two. “Would you?”
“I would change tactics,” he amended, “but unless you gave me a very serious shove … well, no.”
“This is insane.” She blew a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “You can’t marry a Yank.”
“It worked for my brother.”
“He’s not the heir.”
He looked at her seriously. “We’ll see if my father has any objections, which he won’t. Then, if you’re still unsure, we’ll use that bloody gate near my father’s hall, march up to either Rhys or Robin de Piaget, and get their blessing. Then will you be satisfied?”
She shrugged. “I’m only thinking of you.”
“Stop being so bloody altruistic.”
She smiled. “You shouldn’t swear so much.”
He rolled his eyes, but he also happily took advantage of the fact that she was willing to come a bit closer and allow him to do something more constructive than swear.
At least it would leave him with a few happy memories to think on whilst he was watching David Preston clumsily attempt to pursue her in a place where he couldn’t simply take the man out in the back and shoot him.