Courting Claudia (5 page)

 

Oh my goodness
.

Claudia sank back on the stone bench and brought her hands to her cheeks. Her face felt warm, indicating she blushed, just as she suspected. She'd never before kissed a man, and still she knew
that
had to be the kiss to end all kisses. Her entire body felt jiggly, as if someone had taken her apart and put her back together wrong.

She trailed her right index finger along her lips. They were slightly swollen. She didn't feel like herself. She'd never been the girl that men stole kisses from in the garden. Especially not men like Derrick Middleton. He was as handsome as she was plain. It just didn't fit.

Courting her. Indeed. He was funning with her. And she didn't find it the least bit amusing. Her stomach clenched. What could possibly motivate a man to toy with a woman's emotions like that? Surely he wasn't heartless. He seemed the very image of a gentleman.

Well, perhaps not a gentleman in the strictest of terms, but he was kind and well-mannered even if he did steal kisses from unsuspecting women in their gardens. There had been nothing gentlemanly or well-mannered about that kiss.

Or about her response. Heavens.

He had certainly left rather suddenly. As if
something in the kiss had reminded him of something. More than likely, she'd done something dreadfully wrong, and he'd immediately come to his senses. Men like him could have any woman of their choosing. And they rarely dallied with innocent women like her.

In fact, no man had ever ventured a dalliance with her of any kind. She knew it was because of the way she looked. She was plump, and men didn't like plump women. It wasn't as if she'd asked any of them, but it was quite evident. She could count on her hands how many times men had asked her to dance.

But she made the most of her situation. She didn't need a line of men asking her to dance. She'd found her future husband; she was simply waiting for him to propose.

Her mind wandered back to Derrick's kiss. Tingles spread through her body. Gracious. And the simple way he said her name—it seemed to roll off his tongue as if he'd been saying it forever. Her name had never sounded as good as it did in the deep timbre of his voice.

Precisely what was she to do with another suitor? A charade of one or not, Richard was bound to notice sooner or later.

She had one suitor who said he intended to pro
pose, who had never so much as let his mouth linger on her hand. And another suitor who wasn't really a suitor at all, who'd just this afternoon done amazing things with his tongue in her mouth.

What was she supposed to do now?

“P
oppy, have any of your suitors ever kissed you?”

Poppy looked up from the chessboard and eyed Claudia suspiciously. “On occasion, I suppose a few have stolen tiny kisses behind a plant or on a darkened balcony.”

“Real kisses?” Claudia ventured.

“What do you mean, real kisses? They kissed me. That's real, isn't it?”

“Absolutely,” Claudia said, with more enthusiasm than she'd intended. “Yes, those are real.”

“No, that's not what you meant.” Poppy's eyes
narrowed, and she pointed her pawn at Claudia. “What are you hiding?”

Claudia shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Well, I…I overheard some girls talking, and they were most explicit about the way one of them had been kissed.” She scooted her chair closer and leaned forward. “She said that the man put his tongue in her mouth.” She sat up quickly. “Can you imagine?”

“I've heard of such kissing. But I've never experienced it.”

It was scandalous even to discuss such a thing in the Livingstons' front parlor. She should be ashamed of herself. But curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she'd simply had to ask Poppy. Poppy had so many suitors, but of course she had never been kissed in such a way. She wasn't a tart, as some people clearly were.

Claudia squirmed in her chair and tried to focus on her play. “I'm certain it's not the thing decent people do,” she added.

“I don't believe kissing has anything to do with decent or not-so-decent people. Why the sudden interest in kissing?”

“I was merely curious. That's all. It's your move.”

Poppy moved her knight, then her head snapped up. “Did Richard kiss you?”

“No! Of course not. He's never.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Not even on the cheek?”

“No. Is that not normal?”

“I don't know, Claude. I don't think so. Perhaps Richard is afraid of what your father would say.”

“You're probably right.” But she wasn't so positive. A sickening feeling lay in her stomach like day-old bread. “It's not me, is it?”

Poppy shook her head. “Absolutely not. Not possible. Perhaps he's waiting until you're officially engaged.”

Claudia sipped her tea, but the lukewarm liquid did nothing to soothe her anxiety.

“You could ask him,” Poppy offered.

“Ask him what?”

“Why he hasn't kissed you.”

“Are you mad? I could never do that.”

“Well, then you could kiss him.”

“Gracious, no.”

Poppy shrugged.

“Have you ever kissed a man?” Claudia asked.

“Once. I was fourteen, I think, or was it sixteen? Jared Hendricks. We were staying in the country, and he came to visit his grandparents who lived nearby. He spent the entire summer chasing me,
and one day I let him catch me, and then I kissed him. Just to see what it was like.”

“And?”

“It wasn't that memorable.” Her nose wrinkled. “I recall he smelled funny.”

Derrick hadn't smelled funny at all. He'd smelled rather delicious, if she remembered correctly, like sandalwood and mint. But it did not matter what he smelled like. Richard was her beau.

“Suppose I want Richard to kiss me. Short of having him chase me around the garden, do you have any suggestions?”

“My mother always told me that you know if a man wants to kiss you because he looks at your mouth. Does he ever do that?”

“Your mother told you that?”

“She wanted me to be prepared.”

Claudia couldn't recollect Richard ever looking at her mouth. But Derrick certainly had. She'd never been so aware of her own mouth as she had been in the presence of Derrick Middleton. If Poppy had only told her this piece of information yesterday, she could have been more prepared for today's kiss. She could still feel his lips on hers. And the thought of running her fingers through his hair—he must think her a complete harlot. That was probably why he left in such a rush.

“Claudia?”

“What?”

“Does Richard ever look at your mouth?”

“I don't think so.”

“Hmmm…well, that's at least somewhere to start. From now on you'll know that if he looks at your mouth, he wants to kiss you.”

“That's only helpful if he wants to kiss me. How do I get him to want to kiss me?”

“Be more friendly with him, not so formal. Touch his arm when you talk to him. Lick your lips. Make sure you look in his eyes when you're talking.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“I read a book on it once. And my mother. She's been tutoring me in the ways of catching a husband since I could talk.”

“I think the first thing I must do is figure out a way to get him alone. That shouldn't be too much of a problem. I'll simply select a time when Father is out of the house and invite Richard over to sit in the garden. No. That's no good. I'll invite him over for tea.”

“What's wrong with the garden?”

That was where Derrick had kissed her. “Richard prefers the indoors.”

“How positively shocking. Are you certain you want to marry him?”

“We've been over this. It doesn't matter much if I want to marry him.” She took a deep breath. It didn't matter, but it should. She should want to marry Richard. Her father wanted her to, and she should be loyal to that. She met Poppy's gaze, then said, “Yes, if Richard wants to marry me, then I want to marry him.”

“All right. So you invite him over for tea. And then what will you do?”

“I'm not certain. I suppose we will have a talk. Richard likes to discuss the latest with Parliament. I'll listen attentively and wait for my opportunity. And then I'll ask him to kiss me.”

“You can't do that.”

“Oh.” She couldn't? “Why is that?”

“Because—”

“It isn't proper,” Claudia said, interrupting her friend before Poppy made her look a complete fool. “What was I thinking?”

“No, that's not what I was going to say. I was merely thinking that if you're bold enough to ask a man to kiss you, then you're bold enough to simply kiss him,” Poppy said.

“Simply kiss him,” she repeated. “I'm not positive I'm bold enough to do either.” She straightened in her seat. If she could kiss a relative stranger like Derrick, then she could certainly muster enough nerve to kiss her beau. “But it's time I be
came that way. I'm going to be Richard's wife. I should be able to have a kiss when I desire one.”

“Absolutely. Although, and I know you don't want to hear this, but if you're going to be bold and steal a kiss, I would think Mr. Middleton would be a better candidate.”

Claudia all but dropped her teacup. “Why?” She practically shrieked the word. She needed to have better control of her emotions before Poppy discovered the truth. “I mean, I can't imagine why I would be kissing Mr. Middleton. I scarcely know him.”

Poppy shrugged. “True, but he's so dashing and seems the kind of man that would heartily appreciate a woman bold enough to kiss a man. And he seems to like you.”

She should keep that thought in mind. For what? So she could kiss him the next time they were alone? There wouldn't be a next time.

“That's ridiculous. We have a business agreement, nothing more.”

From now on she had to keep a professional distance from Mr. Middleton. Lest her father and Richard find out he'd been “courting” her. She almost chuckled out loud. Courting.

 

Where was he? It wasn't like Richard to be late. Not even to the theater.

Claudia scanned the theater lobby again and still found no sign of him. She stood with Poppy, although Poppy was surrounded by young gentlemen all eagerly awaiting a smile or something. Poppy was as friendly to each of them as she was to every person.

Poppy was gloriously beautiful, and men always took a second look. Claudia, on the other hand, was not unattractive; she was what men often referred to as charming. But charming didn't keep a man by your side. Charming didn't give you more than one man to choose from. Two if you were lucky. Or extremely wealthy. Both things Claudia had never been. She had a dowry—a nice one, but certainly not enough to warrant a line of suitors.

Claudia sighed. What would it feel like, even for a moment, to have men fall all over themselves to get your attention? She shook her head. It was a silly thought and deserved no more attention. She wasn't that kind of woman, and she never would be.

Poppy said something, and her entourage guffawed. Claudia tried not to roll her eyes. She pitied her friend. So beautiful, but since she had no dowry, not one of those men would ask for her hand. Claudia wasn't certain which of the two of them was in the worse situation.

She glanced around the room again, searching for a sign of Richard, and instead found someone staring at her. That never happened. But there he was, Mr. Middleton, standing across the room, simply watching her. He held his glass up in a silent toast and smiled in a manner that made her shiver all the way up her back. A smile for only her.

He made his way to her, and before she could protest, brought her hand to his lips. She felt his soft breath caress her through her gloves. Trapped in his gaze, she almost forgot where she was. Almost.

“I hoped I'd see you here tonight. You look lovely, Miss Prattley, as always.”

She nearly snorted. Lovely. He certainly was giving this courting thing all he could. But she was too clever to fall under his spell. He might be sinfully attractive, and perhaps he had given her a knee-weakening kiss, but that did not mean he was seriously in pursuit of her hand.

With that in mind, she pulled said hand away. “It's certainly a surprise to see you.” She tried to sound cool, disinterested, but doubted she was convincing, as he didn't turn to leave.

“Come riding with me tomorrow,” he said.

It didn't sound like a request. Her heart quickened. Regardless of how utterly thrilling it was
that he wanted to spend more time with her, had sought her out this very evening, she could not encourage his charade. “I cannot.”

“Oh, but you must. I have a gentle mount just perfect for a lady such as yourself.”

“That's very kind, but I really mustn't.”

“You mustn't. That doesn't sound the same as you'd rather not. I'd hate to think my company is that unpleasant.”

“Oh no, it's not that at all. Your company is quite pleasant.” She shouldn't have said it, but it would have been rude to allow him to believe otherwise.

He was silent for a moment. His gaze wandered to Poppy and her group, and he studied them for a while before he spoke again. “Tell me about all of those men around your friend. Is she some sort of enchantress who has bewitched them?”

“Her beauty bewitches all men. Frankly, I'm surprised you're here talking to me instead of over there with her.”

“There's no one else I'd rather be talking with. I'm positive Lady Penelope is a most entertaining converser, but to warrant a crowd of five men? I'm not so certain.”

“Look at her.”

She watched him glance over at Poppy. His eyes roamed the length of her. Claudia's breath caught in her chest while she waited for his reaction.
She'd seen it in men time and again. This was where he'd see how foolish it was to stand here talking with her, and he'd walk away. But to her surprise he shrugged and turned back to her.

“She's very pretty,” he simply said.

“The most beautiful woman in all of England.”

“That's a heavy statement. And I'd disagree. I think there are prettier women and some equally pretty.” He met her gaze. “A woman's beauty does not lie only in her face. You have to look at the entire body. The graceful curve of the neck.” His eyes moved down her neck, and his words burned like fingertips. “The delicate skin of the wrist, the way her body moves when she walks. All of those factor into whether or not a woman is beautiful.”

She didn't know how to respond to such a comment. She could scarcely catch her breath. Did he think her beautiful? How foolish. No man thought her beautiful. Even Richard with all his poetic words of love had never uttered anything that so much as suggested she was beautiful.

So rather than face the awkward, she changed the subject.

“Do you enjoy the theater, Mr. Middleton?”

She thought she heard him chuckle, but his expression never changed. “Most of the time. I admit I do not attend that often. I see now that that is
a mistake. I suppose had I been attending more often, I might have met you sooner.”

“You flatter me, Mr. Middleton, but surely you came this evening with a party. Perhaps a paramour?”

“I came this evening because I had a feeling you might be here, and I wanted to ask you to ride with me tomorrow. You have not given me the answer I came for. And I must point out that I would not be courting you if I had a paramour. Obviously you think me an utter cad.”

“I did not mean to offend you. I simply cannot believe—”

“That I'm truly courting you. Tell me, Miss Prattley, do you ride?” he asked.

“Horses?”

“Yes.”

“It's been a while, but yes.”

“Then come riding with me tomorrow and I shall prove that I am indeed courting you.”

With the last of that simple phrase, the hairs at the back of her neck prickled. How she wished she could say yes, but she could not encourage a relationship with this man. Her father would be furious. Richard himself had said that Mr. Middleton was the wrong sort of gentleman—honestly, not a gentleman at all, he'd said—for her to befriend.

“I can assure you, Miss Prattley, I'm not a man
who settles for less than what he desires. And I desire you…”

Then he paused as if that was the end of his statement, as if he simply meant to say he desired her.