Chapter Four
As Letitia prepared for the Brennan musicale, she was having second thoughts and wished she had never accepted the invitation.
But she would be brave and go. After her maid placed the final pins in her hair, Letitia stood before the mirror, hoping that, if he attended, Greyson would find her irresistible in the blue-and-white evening dress she had chosen.
It was one Madam Serena had delivered that morning, and she’d had his tastes in mind when she picked the medium-blue silk. Blue was his favorite color.
Now, if she could get the swarm of bees to settle in her stomach, she might just survive the night.
If only she were confident he still cared for her.
Her hopes were too high for tonight, and she prayed she wouldn’t trip and fall flat on the floor in a heap of silk if she came face-to-face with Greyson.
“You need not wait up for me, Jane.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Letitia steadied her legs and managed not to trip, step on her dress, or fall down the stairs. Not that she was prone to clumsiness. However, tonight she felt off-center. Perhaps seeing Greyson’s handsome face would make everything right again. She could only hope.
“Have a good evening, my lady,” the butler said as he opened the door.
“Thank you, Mr. Henry.”
The door to her carriage was open, and the footman standing there held out his hand to help her inside. By the time she sat down and adjusted her skirts, the door was closed, and the footman knocked to signal the driver to drive on.
Nervous excitement coursed through her body.
She kept turning her reticule over and over in her lap, giving her hands something to do on the ride to Brennan House.
Now that she was on her way, she reconsidered again her decision to attend.
Even if Greyson was there, he might not want to see her.
If he had wanted to see her, surely he would have called on her by now.
Sent a note, flowers . . . anything to show he was still interested in her.
She could be making a complete fool of herself by showing up tonight.
There was something to be said for the years she had stayed within the safety of her home.
Except that, in order to live, you must set aside your fears and enter the unknown. Or in her case, the ever-critical ton.
By the time the carriage stopped in front of Brennan House, Letitia was a nervous wreck.
She leaned to the side, reaching for the door.
It was unusual for her to open it without waiting for a footman, but if she didn’t escape from the carriage immediately, she would shout out to the driver to take her home.
Her hand was on the door handle when it opened, and she practically fell into Greyson’s arms, surprised beyond reason to find he had opened the carriage door.
“My dear,” he said, his deep voice and handsome face filled with concern. “You nearly fell.”
“I . . . I caught my heel on my dress.” She hoped he believed the lie. “Forgive me for giving you a fright. I am perfectly well, as you can see.” Her heart pounded so fast she hoped he couldn’t hear it.
“I just escorted my sisters inside when I saw your carriage pull up.” He paused, then held out his arm. “May I?”
“You may,” she said, placing her hand on his solid, warm forearm. She swallowed back a sigh at the thrill of touching him again. Silly to be so excited about such a minor thing, but she couldn’t help herself.
“When I saw your carriage, I asked Aurora to save us a seat next to her, if that’s acceptable.” He paused at the top of the outside stairs landing. “Forgive me. That was presumptuous of me. You’re probably meeting someone.”
“I am.”
His shoulders fell, and she felt a twinge of guilt for giving him the wrong impression. But did he not deserve it for not calling on her for months?
“I’m meeting the Duchess of Blackstone and Lady Langford. Both their husbands are out of town.”
“Ahh, then it will be my honor to escort you to them.”
“Thank you,” she said with regret. She loved her friends, but the thought of sitting next to Greyson made her insides warm.
“How fortunate for me,” he said as they entered the large salon and found fifty or so chairs set up in rows, with a narrow aisle between two sections. “My sisters are sitting with your friends, and they left two empty chairs.”
“Yes, how fortunate.” She believed she kept the excitement from her voice at the thought of sitting next to Greyson for the next hour or so. Even if the daughters of Lord Brennan lacked talent on their instruments, she wouldn’t care. Not with Greyson’s close proximity.
They stopped in the aisle, exchanged greetings, and then sat.
She sat between Greyson and Lilly, Lady Langford, who was expecting her first child.
Letitia remembered her time carrying Simon.
She hadn’t been able to keep much down for the first three months, but in the following six months, she felt wonderful, energetic, and happy.
“You are positively glowing,” she whispered to Lilly.
“I feel like I am,” she said, resting her hand possessively on her stomach. “Langford didn’t want me going out without him, but I told him not to worry. I have three months left. I refuse to be stuck inside now. Winter’s coming, and I’ll stay inside, curled up in front of the hearth, then.”
“Langford’s only worried about you.” Letitia had that once with Rutherford. Would she ever have a husband again who loved and worried about her? Although she still wondered at times if Rutherford’s worry and love were real or all an act.
Her eyes flickered to Greyson, who glanced her way at the same moment and grinned, sending her insides into recurring ocean waves. She couldn’t look away as the green of his eyes deepened to emerald. The intensity of his gaze seeped into her soul, causing her cheeks to heat up.
Letitia looked away from Hunter just as Lilly said, “He does.”
It was perfect timing when three young ladies, perhaps around fifteen or sixteen, entered the room.
Each was dressed in white and looked terrified.
One sat at a pianoforte, another picked up a violin, and the last held a flute.
Indeed, as they played one piece after another, Letitia didn’t think they were half bad.
However, she was glad when they stopped, stood, and curtsied to their enthusiastic applause.
She wondered how many of the attendees were clapping because they were good and how many because it was finally over.
Letitia was clapping for both. All three young ladies beamed with surprise at the applause. What they would learn in time was that even if they were dreadful, members of the ton would act enthusiastic. To do otherwise would be rude, cruel, and scandalous.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Greyson, looking dashing in brown and cream, as he stood.
As far as she was concerned, he always looked handsome and dashing.
He acknowledged a young lady and her mother as they walked by, bowing to them with perfect form.
She wasn’t the only lady who noticed. Several of the young debutantes had been making calf eyes at him during the performance.
Not to mention the Marriage Mart mamas, who, no doubt, couldn’t wait to waylay him and practically force their daughters on him.
Oh dear. She panicked. Was he seeking a bride among the debutantes?
“Lady Rutherford,” Greyson’s deep voice interrupted her insecure thoughts. “May I escort you to the refreshments table?”
“You two go,” Lilly said. “The duchess and I will keep an eye on your sisters, Greyson.”
He cleared his throat and gave both his sisters a warning look.
“Please do. I expect Hunter will hope for a stroll in the gardens.” He looked around the room.
“I don’t see Lord Warren, but I’m sure he’s in attendance and will wish to spend time with Aurora.
” He bowed to Lilly and Emmeline. “I am indebted to you both.”
“Nonsense,” Emmeline said with a sigh. “Get Letitia something to drink and eat. She looks flushed. Perhaps she is overly warm and needs fresh air?”
Letitia moved one hand to her cheek. Did she honestly look flushed, or was Emmeline making that up? Their eyes met, and she winked. She had lied to help her with Greyson. It was nice to have friends who understood her.
“Well then, we’ll get refreshments and take them onto the veranda.
” He held out his hand, and she realized she was still seated while everyone else stood.
Blushing, she took his hand and rose, finding herself very close to him; she could smell his woodsy cologne and see his eyes darken.
He released her hand, stepped back, and waved his arm forward.
“Ladies first.” Was she mistaken, or did he seem shaken?
Perfect gentleman that he was, he filled a plate with confectioners’ treats in one hand and precariously balanced two cups of punch in the other as he followed her out onto the veranda.
The fresh night air instantly cooled her cheeks.
They stood at the railing, sipping tasteless punch and nibbling delicious biscuits and miniature tea cakes.
She’d eaten an early dinner and was surprised she could eat two of the delicious treats.
Her eyes met Greyson’s, and he smiled as though he knew a secret.
Before she could ask what was so amusing, he said, “You have a little sugar on your cheek.” He reached out his hand, never breaking eye contact with her, which had her heart pounding. “May I?” he asked, his hand hovering over her cheek.
Her suddenly parched mouth refused to work, so she licked her lips and whispered, “Yes.”
She was enchanted by the look in his eyes and on his face as he swiped his index finger across her cheek, making her body quiver. He held up his finger. “See? Just a little bit.”
She licked her lips again, and all the air vacated her lungs as he licked the sugar from his finger. “No harm done.”