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Authors: Mary Balogh

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BOOK: The Gilded Web
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He reached out and touched her cheek with his fingertips. “You will be part of this family, Alex,” he said. “You will see for yourself.”

She did not shrink from his touch. It comforted her, soothed the ache in her throat.

And then she closed her eyes as his mouth came down to cover hers softly, warmly. His lips parted over hers. She could taste him. He was part of the comfort of the room, the love that his grandmother had brought and left there.

But suddenly she was pushing against him with the book and staring at him in shocked disbelief. She could feel the color flooding her face. “Oh!” she said. And feebly, “How dare you!”

“Forgive me,” he said. He did not move back from her. His blue eyes looked gently down into hers. “I did not mean to insult or to frighten you, Alex. I want to show you affection. You are to be my wife.”

Her back was to the window. She thought she would suffocate or drown in his eyes. “Affection?” she said. “We are not married yet, my lord. You take liberties that you have no right to.”

He took a step back. “I have been too hasty,” he said. “Forgive me, please, Alex. I did not mean to upset you.”

But he had upset her. Her feelings were in turmoil. The intimacy of the moment had terrified her almost to the point of panic. But it was, when all was said and done, only a kiss. How appallingly naive and straitlaced he must think her. And not without reason. It would have been better far to have passed off the moment without comment. And she had not been guiltless. She had invited his kiss, even though she had not realized at the time that that was what she was doing.

“Come,” Lord Amberley said, holding out an arm to her, “let us join the others in the long gallery, shall we? It is my favorite room in the house.”

Alexandra focused all her efforts on bringing herself under control. She felt so dreadfully foolish. And very bewildered. She straightened her spine, drew back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and took his arm.

But a footman appeared in the doorway before they reached it.

“Mr. and Miss Courtney have been shown to the drawing room, my lord,” he said with a bow.

“How opportune,” Lord Amberley said to Alexandra after sending the footman to take the same message to Lady Amberley in the gallery. “I am sure everyone is ready for tea. I am afraid I sometimes get carried away when I am showing off the house. I will show you the gallery and the chapel some other time. If you wish to see them, that is.”

“Yes, I do,” she said.

“Mr. Courtney is one of my more prosperous tenants,” he said. “I had hoped that you would not be subjected to visitors until you had had a day to recover from your journey. But you had Anna and Walter this morning, and now this. I hope you will not mind.”

“No,” she said.

He looked silently down at her as they climbed the marble stairs to the drawing room. She dared not look across at him and meet those blue eyes at such close quarters. She only barely had her feelings under control.

“Say you forgive me, Alex,” he said quietly just before they reached the double doors leading into the drawing room. “I am more sorry than I can say to have discomposed you.”

“You have not discomposed me,” she said, looking straight ahead at the back of the liveried footman who was about to open the doors for them. “And there is nothing to forgive, my lord.”

“‘My lord,'” he repeated softly.

“Edmund,” she said.

M
R
. W
ILFRED
C
OURTNEY WAS
an extremely large man, who creaked inside his stays but still filled every chair he sat in almost to overflowing. His powerful neck bulged from his high starched collar. His face was florid and genial, his head bald and shining. He looked like a prosperous farmer who lived off the fat of the land. And in his particular case, looks did not deceive.

His daughter looked as if she could not possibly be his offspring. Tiny and dainty, she had masses of auburn ringlets, large hazel eyes that looked eagerly on the world, expressive eyebrows and thick lashes, both of which features she knew how to use to advantage. Susan Courtney, apple of a doting father's eye, sister of four elder brothers, eternal pride of a mother who had never been more than passably pretty herself, had been raised to believe that life had more to offer her than another farmhouse and another farmer like her father.

She rose and curtsied low when Lord Amberley led Alexandra into the room, and again when the two older ladies and James Purnell followed them. She peeped shyly into his lordship's face when he presented Alexandra, and more searchingly into his betrothed's. She looked up at Purnell from beneath her dark lashes and blushed becomingly.

Mr. Courtney pumped Lord Amberley's hand and boomed his hearty congratulations. “I have been saying to Mrs. Courtney,” he declared, “and she agrees with me, your lordship, as do all my sons and little Susan here, that you could not have done better for us all in these parts than to present us with a new countess. No offense, ma'am.” He bowed and creaked in Lady Amberley's direction. “But we will be particularly honored to have two Lady Amberleys.”

“Do be seated, sir,” Lady Amberley said, nodding graciously in acknowledgment of his compliment and seating herself after gesturing Lady Beckworth to another chair. “Yes, we are all delighted at the prospect of welcoming Miss Purnell into the family. She has done us a great honor. Do sit down, Miss Courtney. How pretty you are looking, my dear. Gracious, it seems but last year you were a child.”

The girl laughed. “I am all of seventeen, your ladyship,” she said. “I have been allowed to sit at table with guests and dance in company for the last year now. Papa had an offer for me just after Christmas, but it was not a very advantageous one. He asked me, but I begged him to decline. It was Mr. Watson.”

Mr. Courtney beamed fondly at his daughter. “We don't have to sell our little girl to the first bidder,” he said with a rumbling laugh. “We can do better for her than Watson. I am sure you will agree, my lady.”

“And yet Watson is one of the more reliable and honest of my tenants,” Lord Amberley said. “Even if you could not accept his offer, Miss Courtney, I am sure that you must be gratified to have received it.”

“Oh, quite so, my lord,” she said, looking up under her lashes at James Purnell and blushing again. “But he is exactly twice my age. I must admit a preference for someone younger and more handsome.”

Lady Beckworth had been looking disapprovingly at Susan Courtney from the moment the girl had opened her mouth. “Age and looks have little to say in the choice of a husband,” she said. “I am surprised that your papa has allowed you a voice in the matter. He would probably make a far wiser choice than you.” She turned to Mr. Courtney. “A child of seventeen cannot know her own mind, sir.”

He laughed, seeming quite unoffended. “I always look at it this way, my lady,” he said. “It is little Susan here who will have to live with a husband for the next forty or fifty years, not me. She should at least be allowed to choose someone who will not make her feel ill every time she has to look at him.” He laughed heartily.

“You have a point there,” Lady Amberley said, exchanging an amused glance with her son. “Ah, here come Madeline and Dominic. And Sir Cedric.”

Miss Courtney jumped to her feet again and her father hauled himself to his.

“Ah, my lord and my lady,” he said. “It is always a treat to look on youth and fashion. And good day to you, sir.”

Susan meanwhile was curtsying to Madeline and darting glances at her fashionable muslin gown and short fair curls, and to Lord Eden and blushing.

“Why, it is Susan,” he said, coming forward and reaching for her hand. “It must be two years since I saw you last. You were a mere child.”

“I was sent to stay with my Aunt Henshaw last summer, my lord,” she said. “And I am seventeen now.”

“And all quite grown up,” he said, grasping her hand and keeping it within his. “And it used to be Dominic, Susan.”

“Oh,” she said breathlessly, “it would not be seemly now, my lord.”

“Do sit down,” he said. “May I sit here beside you? You must tell me if you still like to play with all the new kittens on your farm.”

“Twenty-three of them we had at the last count, your lordship,” Mr. Courtney said with a booming laugh. “My Howard drowns the new ones whenever he can, but if Miss here gets wind of it, she cries until we are all fit to cry with her.”

“They are such pretty, helpless creatures, my lord,” she said, looking earnestly up into Lord Eden's eyes. “I do not know how anyone could be so cruel as to even think of killing them.” She peeped across at James Purnell, who was sitting close by, his eyes on her.

“Do you eat beef and pork and mutton and chicken, ma'am?” he asked unexpectedly.

“Why, yes,” she said with a blush. “We frequently have two meat dishes at a meal. More even if we have guests, as we frequently do.”

“Do you not pity the cows and pigs and sheep and chickens?” he said.

“One does not like the thought of killing them, naturally,” she said. “But one must eat, sir. I would not be able to endure watching the butchering, of course. I am perfectly sure I would quite faint away. I always do at the sight of the merest drop of blood.” She shifted her gaze back to Lord Eden.

“Perhaps it is a pity for their sakes that they are not pretty animals,” Purnell said.

Mr. Courtney laughed. “Right you are, sir,” he said. “We would be overrun with animals. And talking of guests, my lord.” He turned to address himself to Lord Amberley. “Mrs. Courtney sent me with the express purpose of inviting all present company to dinner tomorrow evening. Nothing very formal, you understand. Just four or five courses. A few more of our friends are to join us in the parlor afterward. Miss here has persuaded us to allow some dancing. Those of us who do not indulge in such exertions will play cards in the dining room when the covers have been removed.”

Lord Amberley smiled at Alexandra, seated beside him on a love seat, and took her hand in his. “We would be delighted to accept your invitation,” he said. “I have been telling Miss Purnell how eager I am to begin showing her off to my neighbors.”

“And I don't wonder at it neither,” Mr. Courtney said. “Such a lovely lady. Mrs. Courtney and I are only anxious lest you decide to wed somewhere else. You would doubtless be able to invite dozens of fashionable guests if the nuptials were in London, but here you would be among friends, my lord. Friends and well-wishers.”

Lord Amberley smiled at Alexandra again. “We have not discussed the matter,” he said. “But we will have to consider your suggestion, will we not, my dear?”

“Yes,” she said, looking at his hand, in which her own lay, rather than into his eyes. She looked up at the beaming face of Mr. Courtney. “I think this is a good part of England, sir. Friends are important.”

“Right you are, miss,” he said. “I was about to take my leave with my little girl here, but I see the tea tray has just been brought in, and I never say no to a cup of tea.” He patted his ample stomach and laughed. “Perhaps it would be as well if I sometimes did.”

“Two of the officers from the regiment will be coming tomorrow night,” Susan was telling Lord Eden. “They were at the Misses Stanhope's tea on Monday last and were excessively amiable. They accepted invitations from Sir Peregrine Lampman and Mrs. Cartwright as well as ours.”

“Indeed?” he said. “I do not know whether to be pleased or dismayed, Susan. Am I to have to compete against uniforms?”

“Oh, la,” she said, gazing at him with large hazel eyes, “you do not need a uniform to look handsome, my lord.”

He grinned at her. “I take that as a compliment, Susan,” he said. “Tell me, are there to be any waltzes tomorrow?”

“Mama said no at first,” she said. “But Captain Forbes particularly asked her at the Stanhope tea and he is so very fashionable that Mama could not bring herself to say no. Besides, Howard reminded her that all our guests from Amberley Court must be familiar with the waltz, having just come from London. Mama has said we may dance a few.”

“Splendid!” he said. “Will you reserve the first for me, Susan?”

“I do not believe I would be able to acquit myself well with such a fashionable gentleman,” she said with a blush.

“Nonsense,” he said. “What you do not know, it will be my delight to teach you, Susan.” He watched her dark eyelashes fan across her flushed cheeks, and glanced downward to her well-rounded breasts, which were moving with her quickened breathing beneath the thin muslin of her dress.

Lady Amberley began to pour the tea from a silver tea urn into Wedgwood china cups, and Madeline rose to her feet to hand them around.

BOOK: The Gilded Web
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