To Wed The Widow (12 page)

The Earl of Ashmore was tired. Too many problems this week at his estates, too many meetings with his advisers.

He’d dragged his brother to all those meetings, and
dragged
was exactly what Sebastian had been forced to do.

“I will not do it, Sebastian,” that brother said. “I am too tired.”

George flopped back in his seat, the carriage bumping along the road to another ball. . .at the. . .

Sebastian turned to his wife next to him and she patted his knee. “The Westins.”

He nodded. “Right. The Westins.”

George said, “With, I am sure, an eminently eligible daughter who I will be forced to dance with and converse at. And I am too tired. My plan is the card room and copious amounts of liquor.”

And copious amounts of eminently
in
eligible women, if Sebastian knew his brother.

He looked again at his wife and her hand still perched daintily on his knee.

She said, “Yes, a daughter. Just out this year–”

George closed his eyes and groaned. “The torture, it never ends.”

Flora’s shoulders shook and she shared a look with Sebastian before saying, “She is a lovely girl, actually. Beautiful and gay and somewhat spirited. I think you will like her, George.”

“Shall we make a wager?”

“And, I think, you will have quite the competition for her. The problem may very well be that she will not like you. She might not even notice you.”

George opened his eyes a slit to glare at his sister-in-law. “Your tricks will not work on me, Jezebel.”

“That was not womanly manipulation, dear George. That was truth.”

He hmphed and closed his eyes again, folding his arms and saying with nary a word that he did not believe it.

If truth be told, neither did Sebastian.

It wasn’t easy to
not
notice George. He also didn’t believe that Flora wasn’t trying to manipulate his brother by making the girl somewhat unattainable.

He smiled at his wife, relieved that it was not him who would need to swing around a fresh-faced silly girl.

She smiled back into his eyes, snuggling a little closer in the tight confines of the carriage. Sebastian took her hand from his knee and hooked it through his arm.

He patted her hand and smiled. Relieved that the tension between them was gone. Relieved that she was herself again.

And he pushed down the little wiggle of worry that was making him wonder just why his wife was no longer tense and unhappy with him.

And stopped dead the next question before it formed. . .

A little too late.

Sebastian stopped smiling and wondered just
who
had relieved his wife’s tension.

Flora had been right.

The girl was beautiful and gay and when George tried to shock her, her eyes twinkled. Her hair was a dark lustrous brown, her skin the color of smooth alabaster, and her chestnut eyes the same color as his favorite horse.

It,
she
, was not unattractive.

She was still a girl, though. And young.

And while George did not normally find silliness off-putting, she was slightly silly.

All those would be easily overcome with a little experience and he could very well see that in a few years, with a husband and children behind her, she would be the toast of the town.

Flora was right. This one he could like.

This one would not make him want to swim the Thames with his pockets weighed down with bricks.

This one could be it.

If one absolutely had to make do with one of them.

He left her after their one set of dances, not asking for a second when every other gentleman begged it of her.

When he made it back to Flora, she murmured behind her fan, “She watched you walk away.”

“Of course she did. Who wouldn’t?”

He turned though and when he found Miss Westin still looking at him, he bowed his head at her.

She lowered her eyes in a subtle curtsy, then turned back to her hordes of admirers.

“I think you were right about the competition,” he said and Flora nodded.

“She still noticed me.”

Flora laughed. “Of course she did. Who wouldn’t?”

“Have I done my duty, then? Am I allowed to escape to the card room and lose my brother’s fortune for him?”

She nodded hesitantly and George waited.

Flora shook herself and smiled widely. “I might join you a little later.”

“I would enjoy that immensely, Flora. It will be grand fun to throw away Sebastian’s money with you.”

She shooed him off and George left, pretending not to look for golden locks even though he knew
she
wasn’t here.

Tried not to feel deflated when he entered the card room and no icy blue eyes were there to greet him.

Sebastian was there though, acknowledging George with a tip of his head and waving him over.

George snaked his way through the crowd.

“What are you doing in here? Losing your fortune is my job, not yours.”

Sebastian didn’t bother saying he wasn’t here to gamble. The man never did. He just held up his drink and said, “Taking a short break.”

“Surprising that you decided to do this while I was safely ensconced with Miss Westin.”

“Was it?” Sebastian sipped. “As you well know, I came to make sure there was nothing here to distract you. Not when we’ve finally found someone interesting.”

No
one
here to distract him.

George shuddered. “Don’t say it like that.
We’ve found someone interesting
.”

“Have we not?”

And when George didn’t answer, because what could he say, Sebastian said, “I assume you have procured a second set of dances with her.”

“No, I have not.”

Sebastian choked and George gave him a few hearty whacks to the back.

George enjoyed it thoroughly.

“Why the devil not,” the earl shouted when he’d caught his breath, and the room paused in its excited frenzy to look at them.

George sighed, smiling and shrugging his shoulders at his brother’s antics. When everyone went back to their games and drinks, George said, “You have no notion of subtlety. Of restraint.”

“Go back right now and get those second dances. How will she know you have your eye on her?”

“And when I go crawling back and her dance card is full, what then Cyrano?”

“Then at least she’ll know you are interested and not accept any untoward proposals.”

“Firstly, I doubt there will be any proposals tonight or even this week. And secondly, she knows.”

Sebastian froze for a second. “What the devil did you say to her?”

George wasn’t sure if he found his brother’s lack of faith amusing or irritating.

“The subtlety will be lost on you, Sebastian.”

“Try me.”

“I asked her to save the first waltz of the next ball for me.”

Sebastian nodded happily. “The subtlety is not lost on me. And good.” He handed his now empty glass off to a servant. “And you’ll call on her tomorrow.”

George shook his head. “Really, Sebastian. How in the world did you not scare off Flora?”

“Don’t let this one get away, George. Or you’ll find yourself wed to whatever is left.”

George clamped his jaw together tight. “I know what I’m doing. And kindly remember that I am not to the marriage stage yet with Miss Westin. I am interested.”

Sebastian sighed. “Despite what you think, I would love for you to be happy in your marriage. But that I can not wait for. Interest is almost more than I can wait for.”

“Did Father wait for you to be happy with your chosen? Or were you merely interested?”

“I knew Flora would be my countess the first time I spoke with her. I wasn’t happy or not happy. I wasn’t interested or not interested. It simply was.”

George knew he was right. Everyone had known that Flora was it. Everyone had been happy with the match.

And if George had been in the same situation as his brother had been, he would have known that Miss Westin was his countess.

It galled him to admit that he
was
in the same situation as his brother.

Miss Westin was everything he needed. Everything he should want.

And while he was interested, he wasn’t entirely happy with her. But that wasn’t her fault.

He simply didn’t want a countess.

Elinor received the Countess of Ashmore in her drawing room again.

“We missed you at the Westins.”

Elinor laughed. “I doubt it. But thank you.”

“Were you ill?”

“No. I didn’t want to see him.”

Not when she might have him. If.

If
was too tempting.

“The earl was relieved to not have to chase you off.”

Elinor smiled conspiratorially. “Oh, yes? How relieved was he?”

Flora pinched her lips together. “Not that relieved.”

“Oh.”

“He thinks he’s found a wife for his brother,” she said and Elinor’s heart stopped beating.

Flora said into the void, “Miss Westin
would
be a wonderful countess. And George was interested despite himself. Or so Sebastian assures me. I, of course, have my doubts.”

Elinor put her cup down before she broke the thing. “Why are you telling me this?”

Flora took a deep breath, looking down at her hands.

“I love my husband, despite how gauche that is. He is happy in his position of power, happy with the wife he needed to choose.

“And I love his brother, too. As if he was my own. I would like him to be happy and I can’t see him ever being happy as the earl. Can’t see him being happy having to choose the wife he needs to fill that position.”

“You think he would be happy with me?” Elinor held her breath, waiting for the countess’s answer.

“I think he will only be happy when he can choose what he wants, not what he needs.”

He already wanted Elinor. She could make him want her more. She could make him want her enough.

If.

Elinor said, “If he could choose.”

“If he could choose.”

“And why can’t he, Flora? I know we are speaking of the earl but he is a man. They are notoriously easy to seduce.”

Flora set her cup down, looking away.

Elinor stood, rounding the little table to sit next to Flora and say softly, “That was not a comment on your womanliness. I am sure you lead your husband around like all wives. It is what we must do. The man thinks, just like a horse, that since he is in front, he is in control. And all women know that it is she who holds the reins who tells him where to go. So why isn’t he going where you want him to?”

“You do have a way with imagery, Elinor.” Flora shook her head. “And this is an area where I have never needed to lead him before.”

“It is no different than getting him to do anything else. Put his nose in the right direction and let him get there himself. The real trouble is in getting him to stop, and that you do not need to worry about.”

A snort escaped from beneath Flora’s hat. And then another.

“Put his nose in the right direction?” And then she peeled with laughter.

Elinor chuckled lightly with her, thinking it was nice to have female companionship. Someone to laugh with, to share with.

Someone she did not need to lead by invisible reins.

Flora patted her eyes. “I had not realized how little we touch. We have been married ten years and have become so comfortable with each other that we hardly notice the other.”

Elinor thought it important to say, “Flora, you have become too comfortable.”

“I did try, Elinor. Every chance I had. He has not deigned to visit my bedchamber, though I am sure he knows I would be happy to receive him.”

“And why did not you visit him in his?”

“Because I am not at all sure he would be happy to receive me.” She cleared her throat. “Rejection is not to my taste.”

Elinor laughed. “Spoken just like a countess. But what if you thought of it not as rejection but as. . .”

She put her chin against her fist and thought. No rejection for Lady Ashmore. How did one go about the dance if one was afraid of failing?

“Oh! What if it wasn’t him rejecting you? What if it was you teasing him?”

What if seducing a reluctant man you were married to was exactly the same as seducing a man you
wanted
to be married to?