Chapter Three #2
Not that anyone had been overtly impolite to her since her arrival.
To her face. But no one had been overly friendly, either.
And whispers and rumors followed behind her every time she passed.
Yet, despite her misgivings, she couldn’t regret agreeing to the dance.
Or deciding to leave her self-imposed exile in Jane’s house to venture out that evening.
And it was all due to the dashing lord who clasped her hand like it was a precious thing and smiled into her eyes like she was the only one in the room.
A lady could far too easily get used to such treatment.
And this particular lady was already far too prone to fall for dashing gentlemen.
She would be wise to guard her heart a little more carefully.
As she had pledged to do not half an hour earlier.
As she still intended to do…until Lockhaven flashed yet another brilliant smile in her direction that had her ready to throw all caution to the wind.
Perhaps she suffered from some malady of the heart and mind. There was certainly something in her that craved love and affection. It must be a defect in her. How else could one explain how her steadfast vows to remain aloof crumbled with such alarming ease in this man’s presence.
He smiled again, his fingers tightening on hers ever so slightly, and she let out a shaky sigh.
Lord help her.
Because she certainly didn’t seem capable of helping herself.
*
Edward watched the conflicting emotions play over Mrs. MacLaren’s face and had to suck in a deep breath to tamp down his exuberance. The lady was obviously drawn to him. And equally obviously not happy about that fact. Or at least guarded. Confusingly so.
The reason for her hesitance nagged at him. As a widow, she was no blushing virgin who knew not of the ways of the world. Yet she seemed determined to keep him at arms’ length. Even while her eyes begged him to draw her closer.
She was such an intriguing mix of contradictions.
He wanted nothing more than to discover all her secrets.
Oh, he didn’t put any credence in the rumors floating around about her.
There was nothing Society liked more than a good scandal that it could blow out of proportions.
They heard of a woman who had buried a husband or two and suddenly she was a murderess hell-bent on matrimonial homicide.
The truth was rarely so titillating. It wouldn’t even be out of the ordinary for her to have been married more than once.
Likely, Mrs. MacLaren was like many other widows out there.
Married off to an older man who unsurprisingly predeceased her only to be married off to another man who followed suit.
He doubted there was more to the story than that.
His own grandfather had been married no less than three times.
Though granted, it was a little less usual for a woman. But hardly unheard of.
Regardless of the mystery surrounding her past, he wanted to make sure that he was part of her future.
That thought nearly made him stumble. Where had that come from?
Her immediate future. That was what he meant.
As the dance drew to a close and everyone bowed and nodded, he stepped closer to keep their words as private as possible.
“Thank you for the dance, Mrs. MacLaren. I quite enjoyed myself.”
Her cheeks flushed becomingly but instead of glancing down shyly, as he expected her to do, she met his gaze, sending a thrill through him.
“As did I, my lord.”
“I would like to continue our acquaintance,” he said, heart pounding at his forwardness. “Would you permit me to call upon you tomorrow?”
Her full, perfect mouth dropped open in a slight O, and he could hear the sharp breath she sucked in.
“I…” She stopped, her eyes flashing to the waiting Mrs. Haddon before she cleared her throat. “I am deeply sorry, my lord, but I do not think that would be wise. Thank you for the request, but I…you must forgive me. But I’m afraid I must decline.”
She dropped a quick curtsy and spun around, hurrying to her sister-in-law.
Anthony appeared at his side less than a second later.
“What just happened? I’ve never seen that expression from you before. Are you quite well?” he asked, peering at Edward like he’d developed the pox. Then his glance flickered to the retreating women and his eyes widened. “What on earth did you say to the poor woman to make her run from you so?”
As they watched, the women paused near the door while Mrs. MacLaren whispered vehemently to Mrs. Haddon who pursed her lips and finally sighed and nodded. Within moments, they had quit the room and were likely on their way out the door.
“I asked if I could call upon her,” Edward said, still bewildered.
Anthony’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “You did what? Wait. That is what sent her running?”
“Apparently,” Edward said with a frown.
“Then I take it the lady declined your request.”
“As much as it pains me to admit it, yes.”
The blow to his ego was, admittedly, fierce.
But all that aside, he had simply never heard of a woman declining such a request. Oh, he was sure it was done occasionally.
But simple politeness dictated that a lady accept any such overtures.
Nothing need come of them, of course. But to so bluntly rebuff a man… astounding.
“Interesting,” Anthony murmured.
His friend’s tone had Edward tearing his eyes from the door and back to Anthony, who was gazing at him with a tilted head and squinted eyes like he was trying to solve one of the world’s great mysteries. “How so?”
Anthony quirked another eyebrow up at that. “First of all, I have never seen a woman run from you. Certainly not one in whom you have expressed interest.”
“I am sure that isn’t true,” he said. Women had certainly rejected him before. Though admittedly, he couldn’t think of such an instance at the moment. But even if he could, running was an extreme reaction.
“And secondly,” Anthony continued, ignoring his comment, “I don’t know that I’ve ever heard of a woman turning down such an offer from any man of similar standing.”
“Thank you!” Edward said, his volume much louder than he’d intended. He glanced around, nodding and smiling at the people who had stopped their conversations at his outburst. “Thank you,” he said again, much quieter. “I was of much the same mind. I am not so horrible, am I?”
Anthony snorted. “You are asking the wrong person.”
Edward’s scowl made Anthony chuckle.
“No, my lord,” he said. “You have your faults but none so grievous as to spark such a reaction.” Anthony tapped his finger against his chin. “In fact, ’tis usually you doing the running.”
Edward started at that. “Whatever do you mean? I’ve never run from a woman in my life.”
That elicited a full body chuckle from Anthony.
“Oh, you most certainly do. Any time a woman gets even a fraction too close. The moment she or her parents start thinking your interest might be matrimonially minded, you are out the door with your coat tails fluttering behind you. And for the most ridiculous reasons, as well.”
Edward scowled again. “You exaggerate.”
“Do I? Very well, then. Lady Elizabeth. You danced with her at three balls and called upon her twice. The columnists had you all but wed with eight children, yet at the fourth ball, the moment you saw her walk through the door, you went out the back.”
Edward frowned, not liking where this line of conversation was going. “Her clothing was always covered in the hair of that dog of hers.”
Anthony’s brow rose again. “Dog hair?”
“Yes. I’m allergic. It makes me itch terribly.”
“Your hounds will be surprised to hear that.”
“They stay outside.”
“You sleep with at least two of them.”
Edward scowled again. It was impossible to argue with a friend who knew you so well. “The hounds are fine, it was that little ball of fur she called a canine that was the issue,” Edward muttered.
Anthony rolled his eyes. “The only thing that makes you itch is the thought of marriage. The poor woman was mortified.”
“I steered Lord Aberforth in her direction. It was quite the match, if I do say so myself. She is now much more happily married than she would have been to me.”
“Hmm, most likely true. Perhaps you should hire out your services.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Edward muttered.
“Very well. What about Lady Tabitha? She was lovely.”
“Yes. But she also wouldn’t stop quoting Shakespeare. I enjoy the man’s plays but if I’d had to listen to one more sonnet…”
“Um hmm. Miss Catherine Bixby?”
“Too tall. I was constantly in danger of compromising the poor girl through no fault of my own because my face reached no higher than her bosom.”
“The world will laud you for your suffering, I am sure,” Anthony said dryly. “All right. Miss Tessmorton.”
“Too religious.”
“Miss Draper?”
“No sense of humor.”
“No, the other Miss Draper.”
“Ah, too humorous.”
“Edward…”
“What? The woman never stopped giggling. I could barely utter a word without setting her off.”
“Lady Constance?”
“She…had a chin hair.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Well, you didn’t see it,” Edward said. “It was two inches long and black as night, right in the middle of her chin.”
“She could have plucked it.”
“It would have grown back.”
Anthony threw his hands up. “See. Ridiculous. You will find fault with any woman no matter how preposterous or absurd to justify permanent bachelorhood.”
“I will not,” Edward said, cringing at the petulant tone in his voice.
“So you say. But all evidence is to the contrary, my lord.”
Edward blew out a breath, knowing Anthony wasn’t entirely wrong.
It was true that he had never earnestly courted a woman. And perhaps the reasons he had failed to do so were slightly…finnicky.
But it was equally possible those women simply hadn’t been right for him.
Surely if he were truly drawn to a woman, he wouldn’t focus on such trivialities.
If he were to ever consider matrimony, and that was a big if, it would ideally be with a woman he could stand to be around for more than five minutes.
He couldn’t be faulted if he hadn’t met such a woman yet.
His eyes were drawn back to the spot Mrs. MacLaren had last been. And he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he finally had.
It would be just his luck that the one woman he might want apparently did not want him in return.
He wished to get to know her more. Allow her to get to know him.
He would not pursue a woman who did not wish to be pursued.
But he could have sworn there was interest in her eyes, a slight tremble in her hand, as they danced.
He had not mistaken the enjoyment they had shared, he’d stake his life on it.
Perhaps the lady was not so averse to him as that no had implied.
He could but hope that their paths crossed again.
And with the rumors that followed her about like clinging shadows, that might not be as difficult as he might have feared.
The rumors did give him a slight pause. Even if they were but partially true, the lady seemed to have an unfortunate habit of losing her partners.
Therefore, pursuing her in any capacity, even one not matrimonially minded, was a risky endeavor. More so than usual, in any case.
But, foolhardy or not, for the first time in his life, it was a risk he might just be willing to take.