Merely the Groom (Free Fellows League 2)

Colin studied the man who would become his father-in-law on the morrow. “If it’s all the same to you, Lord Davies, I’d appreciate the opportunity to speak with her today.” He gave the baron an ironic smile. “If your daughter objects to the idea, I’d prefer to know it before we’re asked to plight our troth.”

Chapter Eleven

“So every bondsman in his own hand bears

The power to cancel his captivity.”

—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

Julius Caesar

“Papa?” Gillian opened the door to her father’s study and stepped inside. “Saunders said you wanted to see me?”

Lord Davies gave his daughter a welcoming smile. “Yes, Gillian, please come in and join us.”

Gillian arched an eyebrow in silent query. She had seen two gentlemen leave the house by way of the front door as she made her way down the stairs. She hadn’t realized her father had another guest until she noticed the broad-shouldered gentleman staring out the window overlooking the west lawn.

Colin turned to face her. “Good afternoon, Miss Davies.”

Gillian’s breath caught in her throat. Viscount Grantham was every bit as handsome in the daylight as he was in the evening.

He stared at her, taking in every detail of her appearance from the top of her curly black hair to the tips of her pale blue slippers and everything in between. Her soft lemony fragrance surrounded him, awakening his senses and confirming his worst suspicions. He had smelled that scent before. Not last night at Lady Harralson’s, but weeks earlier in a dark room in the Blue Bottle Inn in Edinburgh. He had held the woman wearing that scent in his arms all night, and the fragrance of lemons had clung to his jacket and haunted him for days afterward. Colin reacted to it now with a powerful hunger that caught him unawares, like a hard fist in the stomach.

“A pleasure to see you again.” Gillian blushed in spite of herself. “Likewise, Lord Grantham.”

Lord Davies studied his daughter. “It seems you and his lordship are already acquainted.”

Gillian wrinkled her brow. “We are,” she answered. “Lady Harralson introduced us at her party last night. Lord Grantham and I danced a minuet.”

Lord Davies was genuinely surprised. “A minuet, eh?”

Gillian’s eyes sparkled as she looked at her father. “Lord Grantham is a wonderful dancer.” She glanced at Colin from beneath the shadow of her lashes. “And surprisingly light on his feet for so big a man.”

Her compliment surprised him. Colin gave her a warm smile. “I’m a man of hidden talents.”

“You do the fair maidens of London a great disservice by keeping your talents on the dance floor hidden, my lord.” She returned his smile. “Especially during the height of the season. I’m sure you realize that we suffer from such a dearth of willing dance partners that hostesses all over town are pressed into service making introductions in a valiant effort to supply enough to meet the overwhelming demand.”

Colin laughed. “Touché. But I beg to differ with you on one point, Miss Davies.”

“Oh?” Her voice rose a bit. “And what point might that be?”

“Our first meeting,” he said. “Our hostess, Lady Harralson, presented me for an introduction, but your mother, Lady Davies, introduced us.”

“That’s right,” Gillian agreed. “Mama did introduce us.” She turned to her father. “She and Lord Grantham’s mother serve on the same ladies’ charities. Mama met Lord Grantham at his mother’s house.”

“Satisfied?” Colin demanded of Lord Davies.

“Entirely,” the baron replied.

Gillian frowned. “Papa, I don’t understand. What is this about?” She looked at her father as if she suspected he and Grantham were in league.

Colin looked at Gillian. “Your father thought I might be someone I am not.”

The blood drained from her face, and her eyes widened in alarm. Unshed tears burned her eyes as she battled to maintain control. “You think… She looked from her father to the viscount and back again. “He came to call and... Oh, Papa, you told him, didn’t you?” Her voice broke, and Gillian colored as the hot rush of embarrassment reached her face.

Lord Davies nodded.

“You shouldn’t have.” Gillian wished the floor would open up and swallow her. “Lord Grantham didn’t... I only met him last night. He had nothing to do with”—she paused—“what happened to me.”