The Courtship (Sherbrooke Brides 5)

“I am not at all surprised.”

He was smiling at her, wondering if it was too soon to kiss her, perhaps lightly touch his fingertips to her throat, feel her pulse quicken.

“Yes, Douglas was a lovely young man. But that was a very long time ago. I have assured Alexandra that I am over my tender feelings toward her husband.”

“That’s good. It wouldn’t please your current lover all that much if you weren’t over Douglas Sherbrooke. Was Douglas your first lover?”

3

SHE GAVE HIM A COCKY smile. There didn’t appear to be a single embarrassable bone in her body. His fascination continued to climb. “Now, that is very straight speaking, Lord Beecham.”

“Of course. You strike me as a woman who prefers straight speaking.” He helped her into his carriage. He said to his driver, “Babcock, drive us to Gunther’s. I must feed this lovely lady an ice or two before she begins to fade away.”

“Aye, my lord,” Babcock said, eyeing Helen with awe since she was a good nine inches taller than he was. Lord Beecham noticed that Babcock straightened his shoulders as he jumped up into the driver’s seat.

“Hurry, Babcock,” Helen called out of the window, “It will be a close thing. I did not have my luncheon today.”

Lord Beecham laughed, he just couldn’t help it. Surely what she had said wasn’t all that funny. He coughed and followed it with a harrumph.

Helen settled herself opposite him, smoothing down her skirts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. So you didn’t let Douglas bed you?”

“Actually, I fear he wasn’t at all interested.” She sighed. “I was just a little girl to him. I believed him a god. I would have gladly wiped a rose-water cloth over his brow, peeled grapes for him before respectfully popping them into his mouth. I would have—”

“That’s quite enough.” Lord Beecham frowned at her as he pulled on his soft York tan gloves.

She grinned shamelessly back at him.

“You were telling me why Douglas would be annoyed that you had found me,” Lord Beecham said. “You still haven’t arrived at the reason, what with all the drivel you’ve been spouting. Why did you bring up Gray’s name?”

“Douglas, Alexandra, and I were visiting with them. Alexandra brought up your name as being marvelously degenerate and lecherous, in short, a man of vast competence and talent. She thought you could take Douglas’s place in my mind. But Douglas said your reputation was exaggerated, that you purported to be a better lover than any dozen men combining their experience, but that it wasn’t true. You were, in short, a very distant second to him.

“When I looked even more interested, Douglas said in his lord-of-the-manor way that I was to stay away from you, that you would corrupt me and leave me in a ditch.

“When I pointed out that he claimed to be your superior in lechery and that he had not left Alexandra in a ditch, he said that she was simply too pathetic, that is why he’d had no choice but to remain married to her and keep her safe and smiling. He does, you know.”

“Does what?”

“Douglas keeps her smiling. Now, Alexandra likes you. She told me about how you wanted to be her shepherd.”

He whacked his cane against the carriage floor. “You damned women. You can’t wait to tell each other all about a man’s failures, you never forget them, even though this particular failure happened eight years ago. She was newly wedded to Douglas. He was being an ass, nothing all that unusual for Douglas. She was ripe for the plucking, so I thought. But instead, she clung to the tree. She was utterly green, naive, and, unfortunately, adorable.” He frowned over those words and shrugged. “Over the years we have gotten in the habit of exchanging friendly conversation. It is no longer as unnerving as it was at the beginning. I quite like her.”

“You mean you found it strange to like a woman you’d failed to seduce?”

He gave her a look of acute dislike and crossed his arms over his chest. It was intimidating, and he knew it. “Exactly. I can even pass a good half hour now in her company without staring at

her breasts.” There, he thought, pleased with himself. He wasn’t going to let her be more provocative than he, the brazen twit. He would keep the upper hand. Time was growing short. Two o’clock in the afternoon was only an hour from now. He wasn’t going to have time to get her into his bed. He lowered the sun in the sky, thinking of twilight. It was a lovely time of the day, soft lights caressing a woman’s body. He cleared his throat.

“Thirty minutes?” Helen said. “Not a single look? For a man, that has to be close to sainthood.” She gave him another dazzling smile. “So you can see why I wanted to meet you. I want a man who can control himself, who can decide what to do and get it done. I want a man of charm and a bit of wit and endless experience. I want a man who can set a goal and figure out how to gain it, a man who can separate the chaff from the wheat.”

“What does that mean?”

“That, Lord Beecham, was a metaphor. It means you know what is important and what is not. Alexandra recommended you. You have just shown me that you are very comfortable bandying about women’s parts that no other gentleman of my acquaintance would bandy about in front of a lady, and that shows, I suppose, that you know you are fluent enough so that you won’t get shot. Actually, I do exactly the same thing with men and I haven’t been shot either.”

“You mean we are both fluent?”

“Oh, yes. I believe in fairness.”