Perhaps that’s what would happen if she allowed Harry to kiss her, now.
And it would be convenient for everyone if she simply accepted him.
Happily, and with good grace.
So, with a small sigh of acquiescence, she stood mutely by the door to the folly as Lady Quamby knocked quietly upon the solid wood.
Casting aside all reservations despite the rapid beating of her heart, Lizzy stepped in with new determination when she heard the obvious pleasure at her arrival in the familiar, masculine voice.
Theodore stood at the drawing room window and stared wretchedly at the two small figures by the lake. He’d stood in exactly the same place beneath those trees several evenings before, discussing with Amelia how they might leave Quamby House unobserved at the height of tonight’s festivities. She, to escape a forced marriage to Lord Leighton at the hands of her uncle and he…
He stilled. Why, exactly was he doing it?
When he was in love with another woman?
For there was no escaping the fact that he wished above all to be down by that lake, secretly caressing Lizzy’s hand, listening to her artless way of describing her day or exactly what she was feeling. He’d answer truthfully the state of his, if he could.
But he couldn’t.
Lizzy was an heiress, and Theo was not a brazen, mercenary fortune hunter. Not like Dalgleish who, fortunately, had just wandered down the lawn a few minutes before and was now out of Lizzy’s sight. Theo didn’t think he could have stomached seeing Lizzy gazing soulfully across the lake beside Harry Dalgleish.
For it was Lady Quamby with whom Lizzy was conversing. The golden curls that cascaded down the back of the countess’s pink and white dress from beneath a neat straw bonnet were unmistakable. Now Lizzy was walking by her side following the path towards the copse of trees where Theo and Amelia had finalised their plans.
When they disappeared from view, he stepped away from the window, his heart heavy yet feeling relieved that Lizzy was properly chaperoned by their hostess.
Not that it should matter to him what became of Lizzy since he was marrying another woman.
Yes, he was marrying another woman, one he didn’t love but it was for the right reasons. If he could do exactly as he chose, he’d be whisking Lizzy away tonight, instead, and the world would say that their assessment of him as a brazen fortune hunter had been confirmed.
They would say the same when they heard he’d eloped with Amelia though it wasn’t for her money.
And it certainly was not for the reasons Amelia thought.
He looked about the room and considered his options. He could risk the cold shoulder if he tried to join either of the several groups of gentlemen standing about talking.
Or he could wander into the town and check on the chaise-and-four he’d ordered to take Amelia and himself towards the border tonight, though the transaction had already been concluded to his satisfaction. Still, it would be better to ensure that the horses and postilions were in good order and that nothing would delay their departure at the allotted time of 9 p.m. that night.
The thought of it made him feel ill inside.
Hesitating, he scanned the snow-covered slopes in the hopes of seeing Lizzy and Lady Quamby, but no one emerged from behind the hill.
So as there was no forthcoming offer of companionship, Theo headed for the door.
He wanted this marriage as little as Amelia did, but right now, there seemed little alternative for either of them.
It took a moment for Lizzy’s eyes to adjust to the gloom as Lady Quamby closed the door upon them, her hostess’s neat kid boots sounding a satisfied tread upon the gravel path that led back towards the house.
Yes, Lady Quamby had sanctioned this, and Lizzy ought to be obedient for once to the strictures of her superiors and save everyone—not least herself—a lot of bother, she supposed.
Besides, in the gloom of the room, Harry looked handsome and masculine, and she knew she’d be the envy of a great many young ladies if she marched him up the aisle. He had a reputation, it was true, but somehow he’d risen above his past sins.
Unlike Mr McAlister, she reflected with a pang, banishing him from her thoughts as Harry’s arms came about her.
“I’m so glad you came, my love.” His voice was tender, his chest hard, and his breath sweet with some kind of herb. That was important. If one were marrying for attraction and not solely money, there’d be a lot of kissing involved in order to do all the wifely things expected of her.
It wasn’t surprising Susan disliked marriage for Lizzy had been conscious of Sir Richard’s unpleasant breath the first time she’d met him.
“May I kiss you?”