“I think you will find, Miss Blakefield, that Lord Yarmouth is not a gentleman who is easily swayed by what society dictates. He is a gentleman who knows his own mind, who canthinkon matters, rather than being swayed to one course of action simply because everyone else is doing that thing.” She smiled tightly, though her tone remained level. Henry smiled, but not because the lady was speaking so highly of him and, in doingso, making it quite plain that Miss Blakefield, to her mind, was narrow-minded, but because he was rather delighted by the confidence with which the lady spoke. She was not about to allow Miss Blakefield to embarrass her. Many other young ladies might have turned away in mortification, but not Miss Bosworth. Instead, she was courageous and determined and Miss Blakefield would end up the one ashamed. “I think such traits are to be admired, do you not? To be able to think for oneself, to allow one’s own thoughts to take the place of societal expectation and influence is an incredible gift – and a very rare thing, I think. Lord Yarmouth should be admired, Miss Blakefield, not rebuked. Unless it is that you cannot see what is plain for someone such as myself to see about his character?”
Noting the way that Miss Blakefield’s cheeks warmed, Henry kept the smile off his face with a great deal of effort, making certain not to permit even a single flicker to touch the edge of his mouth. He looked at Miss Blakefield with a slightly lifted eyebrow, waiting for her to respond, but the lady’s lips were flat, held into a thin line as the rest of the group looked at her also.
No one was looking at Miss Bosworth, Henry noticed. Every eye was upon Miss Blakefield, waiting for her to respond, waiting for her to say something in response to Miss Bosworth’s question, but the longer the silence grew, the more it seemed as though she could not find a single thing to say.
“I think that I quite agree with you there, Miss Bosworth.”
Lord Stepps, clearly unable to bear the silence any longer, turned with a smile to Miss Bosworth and Henry let out a slow breath, still watching Miss Blakefield out of the corner of his eye. She was now red in the face, her arms folded across her chest and, as Miss Bosworth and Lord Stepps fell into conversation, Miss Blakefield stamped her foot, turned sharply, and strode away – swiftly followed by her lady’s maid who had been standing a short distance away.
Henry smiled to himself, only to catch Lord Falconer’s eye. His friend was grinning, one eyebrow arching in Henry’s direction and, try as he might, Henry could not help but grin right back. The way that Miss Bosworth had spoken of him had given his spirits a lift, his heart renewed in its dedication to the lady. The more time that he spent with her, the more time hewishedto spend with her, and as Henry turned his gaze to Miss Bosworth once more, he found himself with a certainty in his soul which he had never had before.
If she would agree, then he would ask Miss Bosworth to accept his court. He had no desire to tarry, no eagerness to wait a little longer, to take tea and take another walk thereafter; no, he wanted to move their connection further than before – and he wanted to do so without the smallest bit of delay.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you truly attempting to make enemies of everyone we are acquainted with?” Joy blinked, turning her head just in time to see her mother storming into the room, a flush growing into her face as Lady Halifax continued to rail at her, clearly unaware that Joy had company. “I have only just now heard from one of my friends that you spoke in averyrude fashion to another young lady!” Lady Halifax threw up her hands, her face now as red as Joy’s. “You insulted her, suggested that she was slow in her thinking or some such thing. Why must you do such a thing as that, Joy? Have you no interest in furthering your connections in society? You have already ruined your chances for a match almost entirely, and still, you do not learn? What else is there that must happen to you? What other consequences must your sharp tongue face, before you realize what it is that you are doing? You are already a wallflower. Do you want to be spurned by society altogether?” Shaking her head, Lady Halifax sighed aloud and shook her head. “I think that mayhap, we should return home. Your father is disappointed enough already with all that I have told him in my letters. I am sorry that I shall have to write of yet more foolishness on your part.”
“Mama.”
Joy lifted her eyebrows, widening her eyes, but her mother was clearly in great distress and continued speaking regardless, ignoring her.
“I have had to endure more than enough, Joy.” Lady Halifax flung her hands up again and then let them fall to her sides. “It is time to return home.”
“That would be a great shame.”
Much to Joy’s mortification, her mother let out a small shriek of surprise, her eyes flaring wide as she stared at Lord Yarmouth who had come to call only a few minutes before Lady Halifax had arrived. Having sent the maid for her mother – though another remained in the room for propriety’s sake – Joy had expected her mother to come in with a warm smile and, perhaps, a little curiosity. She had not expected to be spoken to in such a cold fashion, and to have had her do so in front of Lord Yarmouth was all the more of an embarrassment.
“Lord… Lord…?”
“Lord Yarmouth, Mama.” Quickly getting to her feet, Joy came a little closer to her mother and, with great firmness, grasped her arm and then led her to a comfortable chair. “I did send the maid to fetch you. Lord Yarmouth has come to call on me.”
“To call on you?” Lady Halifax repeated, turning to look at Joy with such wide eyes, that it was as though she could not quite believe that such a thing had taken place. “I… I see.”
Lord Yarmouth rose to his feet and bowed, just as Lady Halifax collapsed back into her chair.
“I am very glad to see you again, Lady Halifax. Though I must say, I do hope that your return home might be reconsidered? I had every intention of spending as much time as possible in Miss Bosworth’s company, which I cannot do should she return home!”
Lady Halifax blinked rapidly, her color changing so quickly from red to puce that Joy wondered if she might have to send for the smelling salts! Glancing at Lord Yarmouth, she quickly hid a smile, seeing the twinkle in his eye. Apparently, the thought that someone might come to call on Joy was almost too much to take in for her mother!
“I have sent for tea, Mama. It will be here presently.” Turning to Lord Yarmouth, Joy merely spread her hands by way of apology, only for Lord Yarmouth to chuckle softly. “I think your presence may have stayed my return home,” Joy whispered, as her mother began to fan herself with one hand before sending off the maid to fetch her fan. “Thank you for that.”
“I do mean every word of what I said,” came the quiet reply. “I should like to be in your company as much as I can.”
Joy’s eyes widened as a kick of excitement to her stomach sent her heart pounding.
“Truly? Even though I am a wallflower who speaks much too sharply to others?”
Lord Yarmouth grinned.
“I do not think you did anything wrong as regards Miss Blakefield – and I shall say that to your mother! But yes, I should very much like to court you, Miss Bosworth. That was my intention in coming here today, though I had hoped to speak to your mother of the idea before asking you, but I am not certain that she would be able to even listen to me at the present moment!” His eyes searched her face. “What would you say if I were to ask you, Miss Bosworth? Would you accept me?”
“Of course I would.”
It was rarely that Joy was embarrassed by how quickly she spoke but, on this occasion, her eagerness had displayed itself with such earnestness that she could not help but flush. Thankfully, Lord Yarmouth only smiled, his eyes twinkling as she dropped her head and then turned her attention back to hermother, waiting until her embarrassment faded a little before she looked back at Lord Yarmouth.
Inside, however, her heart was leaping about in such a frenzy that it was difficult to even take a breath. Her whole body was sparking, tingling in her fingertips and her toes.
Lord Yarmouth wishes to court me!
