To Catch A Suitor (Dalton Family 2)

“Yes…it is.” And then they fell into another silence. Only the sound of the wind moving through the trees and horse hooves beating the ground broke the heavy silence.

Elizabeth moved her lips from side to side to give her something to do.

Perhaps it had only been the champagne, but the night she had met Lord Hastings, she had found him much more personable. Easier to talk to. Then again, that champagne also had her talking to the carved lion head in Miss Loxley’s foyer so that wasn’t necessarily saying much.

At least five minutes passed without anyone muttering a single word, and the quiet was beginning to drive Elizabeth mad. If this man—a man who supposedly never showed any females any attention—had singled her out, it must have been because he wanted to further his acquaintance with her in some way. So why wasn’t he talking? “May I be frank, my lord?”

He smiled softly. “Please do.”

She fidgeted with her lace gloves. “I was rather surprised that you wished to call on me after the night we first met.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I”—she could feel her face growing hot—“I remember saying some rather unpleasant things to you and acting in a way that was not at all becoming. Honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had decided to give me the cut direct.”

He chuckled a little. The sound was nice. Welcoming, even. “Well, if I may be frank in return—”

“Oh—yes! Please do,” said Elizabeth, turning a little in her seat and feeling excited at the chance to have a real conversation with him. Possibly even begin a bit of flirtation. Maybe he would tell her that he had secretly adored her silly antics that night. Or that her beauty had captured him from the moment he laid eyes on her. This could be the beginning of her falling in love with Lord Hastings.

“I’m a little surprised that I didn’t give you the cut direct as well.”

Hmm. This wasn’t exactly the romantic declaration she had been hoping for. She faced forward again. “I see.”

She could feel his eyes on her. “Was that terribly rude?”

Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “Well, I suppose I did give you permission to be frank, didn’t I?”

“Blast.” The frustration in his voice caught her by surprise. “I must warn you. I’m no good at this.” He gestured to the space between them. “You might have heard the rumors that I’ve never courted a woman before. And it’s for good reason—”

“Stop!” she said, putting a hand on his arm and forcing him to stop the horses. Elizabeth looked toward the commotion that had drawn her attention. A little dog had run in front of their carriage, and Elizabeth squinted to see two children in the distance yelling and running after it. Her head swung in the direction of the little mutt and then back to Lord Hastings.

“What is it?” he asked, alarm in his tone.

Did he not see? Could he not hear the children?

“Those children have lost their dog,” she said quickly, pointing in the direction of the brown ball of fur that had momentarily stopped to scratch his ear. “We must catch him.”

Lord Hastings looked both puzzled and as if he were about to break out in full laughter. “Catch that dog?”

“Yes.”

“That filthy looking animal over there, who I imagine at one point was white and is now brown?”

“Yes,” she said, exasperation growing. “Will you not go catch him for the children?” She searched his dark forest eyes but saw no hint of the answer she was hoping for.

“No,” he said on a chuckle. “I will not. I apologize, Lady Elizabeth, but this is a new Weston coat and I paid far too much for it to have it dashed to bits by that grungy dog.” He looked forward again and adjusted the reins to start moving again.

The dog finished scratching and prepared to bolt again, as the children neared—but Elizabeth knew there wouldn’t be enough time for them to catch it. If Lord Hastings couldn’t be bothered to help, she would simply have to do it herself.

Elizabeth gathered up the skirts of her dress and jumped swiftly down from the carriage.

“Lady Elizabeth!” said the unhelpful man in horror. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she yelled back as she began running as fast as she could toward the dog, hand on the top of her straw bonnet to keep the wind from ripping it from her hatpins.

Elizabeth had almost made it to the dog when she felt a hand on her arm pull her to a stop. She spun around, ready to do battle with Lord Hastings, when her eyes locked with the set of blue eyes that never failed to make her stomach swoop and immediately long for the sea. Oliver. He smiled, and the unexpectedness of his presence made a soft, warm flutter soar through her body. “Wait here, Lizzie. I’ll catch him.” His hand was still on her arm and part of her forgot all about the dog and wished she could spend the rest of the day right there with his hand gently holding on to her.

“Thank you,” she managed to say before he darted off in pursuit of the dog.