The Bedding Proposal Part 14

"Tattersall's is selling off Lord Drovner's stables tomorrow morning," Lord Leo said after a short silence. "I was wondering if you might enjoy accompanying me. He had acquired some prime horseflesh before his bankruptcy, so there might be some good buys to be had."

"Drovner has gone bankrupt? How?" She set down her plate.

"Gambling, I believe. I heard he recouped his lost fortune by way of some highly lucrative shipping ventures only to turn around and lose it all again at the card tables. Rather imprudent of him, I would say."

"Well, he never did have a lot in the way of brains. Too much hair and not enough sense."

"How apt, particularly given the considerable amount of pride he actually does take in his hair."

"Lud, you're right." She leaned closer. "Does he still wear that horrible pomade?"

"The one that smells like a pine bough?"

"Exactly," she said. "I always thought it a wonder that a bird didn't land in it and try to build a nest."

"Or a squirrel, perhaps, in need of a place to hide acorns."

He grinned and she grinned back, and for a moment she forgot all the reasons it would be foolish to let herself like him.

Unless it was already too late.

Do I like him?

The question danced along the edges of her mind.

"So are we in agreement?" he asked. "Shall I come round tomorrow morning and pick you up?"

She stared, forcing herself out of her reverie. "Oh, for the sale, you mean?"

"Yes. The sale," he repeated, looking faintly amused. "Would you care to accompany me? It would count, of course, toward our two weeks together."

When he put it that way, she supposed it would be foolish to refuse. And she had to admit that a chance to see the horses from Drovner's stable sounded quite exciting. Not that she could afford to purchase any of them, but still, that didn't mean she wouldn't enjoy viewing some excellent horseflesh.

As for being seen publicly with Lord Leopold, well, she supposed it made no difference at this point. Anyone who cared to notice had probably already seen his coach parked outside her town house and knew he was even now inside her home. So what did it really matter? Then too there was all the gossip from their adventures at Holland House. . . .

"Yes, all right," she said. "What time?"

"Eight thirty, if that's not too early. The sale starts at ten, but I thought it would give us a chance to inspect the stock first without feeling rushed."

"I am an early riser. Eight thirty is most acceptable."

He settled back against the sofa. "Excellent. And how interesting that you are not given to sleeping late. I wake up with the sunrise most days myself. We're even more compatible than I thought."

"Many people awaken early. It hardly signifies."

"Perhaps not at present," he drawled in his smooth baritone. "But later, I have every confidence, it will signify a very great deal."

She didn't pretend to misunderstand his barely veiled innuendo. "Then you suffer from an overabundance of confidence, Lord Leopold."

A laugh came from his throat. "One can never be too self-a.s.sured. It's rather like having money, I have found. And it is 'Leo,' remember? No more 'lords,' not when we are alone."

"Hmm, so you've said. More tea, Lord Leopold?"

He reached down and placed his hand over hers where it lay in her lap. When she tried to slip free, he captured it firmly inside his own. "I'm going to hear you say my name again, often and of your own volition. I look forward to those sunrises when you will whisper it in my ears, over and over again."

She yanked her hand loose. "I thought you understood that our arrangement does not include any bedroom activities."

"I do. Still, you can't expect me not to at least try to change your mind." He held up his good hand before she could say anything in response. "Fine, fine. I'll behave for now. So what shall we do for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Who says 'we' are doing anything further this afternoon?"

"You promised to spend time with me."

"I am. I've fed you tea and biscuits. You may leave whenever you like."

Instead he remained seated and smiled. "Do you play chess? If so, we could have a game."

"You want to play chess?" she said, unconvinced.

"Well, I can think of other things to do." He paused, his gaze drifting briefly upward toward the ceiling before returning to hers. "But since you've ruled that out, I thought chess would suffice. I considered cards instead, but there's this arm of mine. One hand and all, makes it a bit difficult to draw and discard."

She frowned, once again eyeing the black cloth sling he wore. He must still be in pain. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth in an old gesture of guilt, then let it go the moment she realized what she'd done. "I have a set here somewhere. In the library, I think. It's been a long time since I played."

"Good. You'll be easier to beat."

She studied him for a time; then, to her surprise, she laughed.

Chapter 13.

"Congratulations, Lord Leopold, on a splendid acquisition," Thalia told Leo the following morning as they stood among the crowd gathered in the auction yard at Tattersall's. "That is one of the most beautiful pair of matched grays I have ever seen. Well done. Well done, indeed."

Leo grinned down into her caramel eyes, not sure which pleased him more -the fact that he'd just won the bid for the grays or that Thalia was smiling at him, more at ease and happier than he had ever seen her look. He gazed at her and decided it was Thalia.

She'd been ready and waiting when he'd called on her promptly at eight thirty. Much to his approval, she was dressed in a dark green kerseymere day dress and a sensible pair of brown leather half boots. She'd donned a warm brown pelisse and hooked a small reticule over her wrist before accompanying him to his waiting coach.

Despite their early arrival, the sales yard had been filled with prospective buyers and curiosity seekers all there to inspect and banter noisily about the horses on view. Thalia had lit up from the moment her feet touched the ground, clearly delighted to be part of the action.

She'd surprised him, as she had done repeatedly since their very first encounter. He knew she rode well and enjoyed horses, but once they began considering individual animals, he quickly realized that she had a keen understanding of all things equine.

"Oh, my father was horse mad," she explained when he inquired further. "Really, it was the only thing the two of us could talk comfortably about when I was growing up. We used to drive my mother crazy, discussing breeding lines and conformation and which horse had the best chance of winning the derby in a particular year.

"I never really thought about all the things I was learning-I just took it in like children do and didn't question. I was sixteen and on the verge of womanhood when Papa died. I still miss those talks with him."

Leo had thought of his own father in that moment, understanding what it was like to lose a parent at a young age. He'd only been seven when he'd learned firsthand about grief and death.

He'd been glad when Thalia continued talking.

"After that," she said, "my mother saw to it that I focused on what she considered proper feminine matters such as clothes and dancing and preparing me for the Season. She wanted me to make an advantageous marriage, you see." She gave a self-deprecating shrug. "Well, I hardly need discuss how that turned out."

Hampered by the sling he was still wearing, he'd wrapped his good hand around her elbow, then slid it through so their arms were hooked. She hadn't resisted, returning to their discussion of the horses up for auction as they strolled along.

Once the sale began, he'd settled for bidding on the grays, while she had seen a beautiful little mare that had made her sigh with longing. Despite his encouragement, she'd refused to bid. She'd also refused to let him bid on her behalf.

"You ought to have let me buy that roan filly for you," he said now as they began to make their way back to the coach. "It would have been my pleasure."

She paused. "Thank you, but I do not accept gifts from gentlemen."

Does she not?

Most women adored gifts, particularly from lovers. But in spite of her lurid reputation, he was beginning to wonder if there were any lovers. He certainly hadn't seen evidence that he had rivals. And now that he had gained access to her house and spent some time alone with her, he found himself questioning the stories he'd believed about her when he'd started his pursuit.

So who precisely was the real Lady Thalia Lennox? And what was the truth of her past and the circ.u.mstances that had led to the demise of her marriage?

"If not gifts, then would you at least allow me to buy you a hot chocolate at Gunter's? I trust you can have no objection to that?"

Her dark brows furrowed. "Not to the chocolate, no, but Gunter's is . . . well, I no longer frequent that establishment."

Because of her divorce, she meant. Because she didn't feel welcome among the members of the Ton who gathered there to eat ices and sip tea.

He knew that she was ostracized by Society. Realized that she wasn't invited to parties and entertainments with the people who had once called themselves her friends. Her former husband had suffered no such harm and was warmly greeted at all manner of Society events. Supposedly, Thalia had had an affair: the justification for her disgrace. In the Ton's eyes, Gordon Kemp was the wronged party. But Leo wondered now if he really was.

Whatever Thalia may or may not have done, Leo couldn't believe that the blame lay solely with her. There had to be far more to the story than what was readily visible on the surface.

But for now, he wanted to take her out for a simple cup of cocoa. And the idea that she wasn't "allowed" in Gunter's, well, it made him angry. He didn't bother pretending not to understand her hesitancy.

"The last time I checked, Gunter's was a public establishment. If we wish to dine there, it is n.o.body's business but our own."

Her eyes widened slightly before they took on a look of sad resignation. "Yes, but it is not somewhere that a woman such as myself goes."

"I fail to see why not. They serve ladies and gentleman and you are a lady. You have every right to visit their premises. I presume you have never been refused service?"

"No, but I have not gone there in years."

His jaw tightened in what his family would have recognized as his mulish streak. "Then it is long past time you did."

"It will cause an uproar-"

"Let it. What do either of us care for the opinions of a bunch of staid old harridans and disapproving ape leaders?"

"It is more than old harridans and ape leaders. Believe me, I know." She laid her hand on his sleeve. "Leo, it is most kind of you to defend me in such a way, but I reconciled myself to my particular situation ages ago. To be honest, it is wearisome being snubbed and stared at. I would much rather drink chocolate with you at my town house. Let us just go back there."

He looked into her eyes. "I don't believe in taking the coward's way out."

"No, there is nothing of the coward in you, Lord Leopold. As for me, I have learned to choose my battles. Besides, Mrs. Grove makes better hot chocolate. Ices are Gunter's specialty. If we want to stage a rebellion, we ought to do it in the summer."

He studied her for another moment, then relented. "I am going to hold you to that, you know. You and me and ices at Gunter's and Society be d.a.m.ned."

She smiled, but said nothing further.

With her hand still on his arm, he started them toward the coach once more.

"You know," he said, "it just occurred to me that perhaps you don't want to be seen with me in public."

Her eyes flashed up to meet his. "If that were true, I wouldn't have come out with you this morning. I am sure someone noticed us together."

"Of course they did. It's not every day I escort the most beautiful woman in London to a horse auction."

She shot him another look, the caramel hue of her eyes turning warm. "Trying to flatter me, Lord Leopold?"

"If it will help win your favor, then undoubtedly."

As she had done the day before, she laughed. The sound made his chest swell with pleasure. Maybe drinking hot chocolate alone with her at her town house was the better plan, after all.

"You are right," Lord Leopold said nearly two hours later. "Mrs. Grove's hot chocolate is better than Gunter's." His china cup made a faint clink as he set it onto its saucer.

He'd positioned the saucer on a nearby tea table so he could drink using only one hand. Still, he looked decidedly uncomfortable at times as he dealt with all the restrictions to his movements.

She'd asked him earlier how his injury was faring. He'd given her a curt smile and said only that it was healing. She'd decided to prod no further on the subject, since men could sometimes be touchy about such matters.

"I shall once again convey your compliments to her," she said, setting aside her own cup. "Mrs. Grove beamed like a girl yesterday when I told her how much you enjoyed her sandwiches and sweetmeats."

"Well, the praise is entirely genuine," he said. "You don't suppose she could make up nuncheon for us, do you? It's been hours since breakfast."

"But you just ate chocolate and biscuits."

"A delicious appetizer." He laid a hand on his flat, waistcoat-covered stomach. "Are you not hungry?"

"No, not terribly. But I would be a poor hostess if I did not feed a guest who is in need of a meal."

She rose and crossed to the bellpull.

She was making her way back to the sofa when she heard an odd cracking sound. Without warning, her ankle slid sideways as the heel of her half boot collapsed beneath her.

"Oh!" She reached out instinctively to steady her balance, and stumbled, catching the edge of her gown beneath her other foot. She pitched forward, her muscles tightening instinctively as she began to fall.

A pair of strong arms reached out and caught her. She pulled in a gasping breath and looked up into Leo's eyes as he held her safe and secure. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were pressed tightly against his chest, her arms curved around his shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. For a long moment she could think of nothing but him and how right it felt to be held in his embrace.

"My heel broke," she said weakly.

"Is that what happened? I thought maybe you'd tripped on the carpet. Are you all right? Are you injured?"