The Earl She Despised (London Season Matchmaker 3)

Thomas resisted the urge to scoff at this, for he was more than content with seeing only the outward beauty of those who drew near him. Lord Henderson was correct to say that Miss Wells did not have the same outstanding beauty of his usual companions, but she was not overly plain at least. His eyes drew back to hers and took her in, seeing her curvaceous figure, her gentle lips, and it reminded him of her sharp eyes. Light green, if he recalled correctly, although there had been nothing but ice within them when he had first spoken to her.

“I think you should go and attempt to speak to her whilst you have the opportunity to do so,” Lord Henderson said, dragging Thomas’s attention away from his own thoughts. “Look now, there is another gentleman attempting to catch her eye, and he will be by her side before you know it.”

Thomas did not even hesitate for a second, moving forward with such long strides that a good many people had to move out of his way. His eyes were fixed on Miss Wells, as he forced himself to move faster as the gentleman before her bowed and smiled. Much to his displeasure, Thomas saw Miss Wells smiling back, although her expression remained somewhat taut. Was she not enjoying herself? Or did she think this gentleman to be entirely unappealing in some way?

“Miss Wells.”

Seeing Miss Titania Wells nearby, Thomas stopped making his way towards her sister and bowed quickly. “How good to see you this evening.”

Much to his surprise, Miss Titania did not seem delighted to be back in his company. There was no smile on her face and no warmth in her expression as she curtsied.

“Good afternoon, Lord Weston,” she replied tightly. “If you will excuse me, I was just on my way to find Lord Carroway, my betrothed.”

He frowned, wondering at the sharpness of her tone. “I recall that you are engaged, Miss Wells,” he told her, as she made to turn away. “Did I not give you my most hearty congratulations?”

She nodded but did not smile. “You did,” she admitted, still half turned away from him. “I thank you for that.”

&n

bsp; “Might I be permitted to peruse your dance card?”

Normally, Miss Titania Wells would be more than delighted to oblige him, but this evening, for whatever reason, she was tightlipped and less than inclined to do as he asked.

“I do not think I shall dance much this evening, Lord Weston,” she told him, her eyes fixed up on his for a moment. “You will have no end of partners however; I am quite certain.”

Still thoroughly confused by her lack of warmth towards him, Thomas could not help but grasp her arm for a moment, which stopped her from turning away from him completely.

“Forgive me, Miss Wells,” he said quickly, seeing the angry look in her eyes. “But what is the matter if I might ask? You appear to be rather put out, and I cannot think as to why.”

A hard laugh came from her, as though he had said something foolish. “Do you truly think that my sister has not informed me of what passed between you both at the last ball we attended, Lord Weston?” she asked, coldly. “Surely you cannot be so arrogant as to believe that I will give my loyalty to you instead of to her?”

A flush crept up Thomas’s neck, his heart twisting painfully. Of course. He had not even thought about the fact that Miss Merry Wells would speak to her sisters about what had occurred, nor had he thought that there would be such a strong reaction from Titania over it.

“I do hope she informed you that I have apologized fully for what I said to her that evening,” he replied quickly, inclining his head by way of expressing his sorrow. “It was cruel and unkind, and I should not have said a single word to her.”

Miss Wells sniffed and turned away. “You should have accepted her refusal with good grace, Lord Weston,” she replied. “For she has every right to choose whom she will dance with on any particular evening – as do I.” And, with this final remark, she began to walk away from him, leaving him to stand alone.

A ripple of anxiety ran over Thomas’s frame, but he pushed it aside easily enough. There was no need to worry himself about what Miss Merry Wells would say. He would make a pretty apology in person – for it seemed she was not about to accept his written note of regret – and thereafter, his eagerness to acquaint himself further with her would grow steadily. At least, he would make it appear as such. The only reason he was doing this was to win the bet.

The gentleman he had seen earlier was still in conversation with Miss Wells. Frustrated, Thomas let out a long breath and waited until the gentleman caught sight of him, clearly unaware that he had been waiting to speak to Miss Wells. With a slight bow in Thomas’s direction and a murmur to Miss Wells, the gentleman left her side and allowed Thomas to step forward.

Miss Wells was smiling softly in the direction of the gentleman who had only just departed from her. Her whole face was changed in that moment, for there was a brightness to her eyes and a warmth to her smile that halted Thomas for a moment. He had not seen her smile in such a way before, and when she did so, Thomas knew that he could not refer to her as plain. She was delicate, warm, open, and delightful and, much to his surprise, Thomas found himself wondering how he might be able to bring such a look to Miss Wells’ face.

“Miss Wells.”

After striding purposefully towards her, Thomas bowed grandly, snapping his heels together as he did so.

“How good to see you again,” he continued, looking up to see her looking back at him with a dark expression on her face, the smile gone completely. “I do hope you have received my note.”

“I did.” Miss Wells said nothing more, her lips flattening as he looked back at her, his confidence beginning to fade in a most alarming manner. This was not something that often occurred with him, and he had very little idea of what he was to do or what he was to say next. He had never once had to force conversation from a lady and certainly had never needed to consider what he might say in order to have her warm to him. He was floundering completely, feeling as though he were a drowning man with no one nearby to save him. Even Miss Titania Wells, whom he had thought might encourage her sister towards him, had done nothing but turn her back on him, now apparently considering him to be poor company for what he had said.

“Merry.”

A murmured word caught his attention, seeing a tall, older lady turn towards Miss Wells, with a look of interest in her eyes. Miss Wells shot a quick look up to her before closing her eyes momentarily, clearly irritated.

“Might I present my mother, Lady Whitehaven,” she said, barely looking at Thomas as she gestured towards him. “Mother, may I present the Earl of Weston.”

Thomas bowed at once, wondering if Lady Whitehaven had also been made aware of his lack of manners towards her daughter. In lifting his head, he saw that she did indeed know, for her smile was fixed and her eyes suddenly sharp.