Love and the Single Heiress

Look at those fools, walking about, talking, laughing, shopping, as if they hadn’t a care in the world. As if lives hadn’t been ruined.

But no more would be ruined. I’ll see to it.

The curtain fell back into place.

You managed to survive last time. You won’t survive next time.

Chapter 10

Today’s Modem Woman may well find herself the object of affection of more than one gentleman. This is an enviable position as it is always good to have a choice. If, however, she eventually decides that one must be chosen over the others, the best way to discourage the excess gentlemen is to make it plain her affections are claimed elsewhere.

A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore

That evening, Andrew sat across from Lady Catherine in her carriage en route to the Duke of Kelby’s soiree. While he would have preferred another cozy, laughter-filled evening like last night rather than a gathering where God only knew how many men would be vying for Lady Catherine’s attention, he intended to make the most of whatever courting opportunities the night might bring. And if one of those opportunities was the chance to discourage the competition, so much the better. With his impending departure from Little Longstone hanging over his head like a dark cloud of doom, he refused to squander any time.

Just then Lady Catherine smiled at him and bloop went his heart. Dressed in a pale turquoise muslin gown, with matching ribbons woven through her shiny chestnut curls, she stole his breath. By God, he could not wait for the day when he could freely draw her into his arms and kiss her rather than gawk at her from a distance.

Returning her smile, he said, “The color of your gown reminds me of the beautiful, sparkling clear waters of the Mediterranean. You look”-his gaze drifted over her, resting for several seconds on her lips before meeting her eyes once more-“stunning.”

Catherine felt the heat of color bloom on her cheeks. “Thank you.” Her gaze flicked over his dark blue jacket, neatly tied cravat, and cream breeches, and she had to press her lips together to contain a sigh of feminine appreciation. Was it possible for a man to look stunning? One look at her companion told her that clearly it was. “One could say the same about you.”

“One could?” he teased. “Or one does?”

His smile nearly stole her breath. “Are you attempting to extract a compliment from me, Mr. Stanton?”

“Heaven forbid. I am merely trying to ascertain whether you inadvertently gave me one.”

She pursed her lips and pretended to give the matter grave thought. “My goodness. It appears I did.”

“Then I thank you, my lady. Indeed, I don’t believe I’ve ever been called ‘stunning’ before. Tell me, did Spencer tell you about our adventures in the village?”

“Yes, although apparently not everything, as he didn’t wish to ruin your surprise. It sounds as if you two had a jolly time.”

“We did.”

“He said that quite a few people looked at him rather oddly, but that ‘Mr. Stanton fixed everything.' He said you introduced yourself and Spencer to everyone you met, and to all the shopkeepers whose stores you visited.”

Mr. Stanton nodded. “When people realized he was your son, they were very kind. Everyone we spoke to sent you their best regards. Some people did stare, but I assured Spencer they were most likely only curious, not unkind.”

“He told me that you said if anyone was unkind to him, you’d pound the, um, piss out of them.”

“My exact words,” Mr. Stanton agreed without hesitation.

She couldn’t contain the grin pulling at her lips. “Well, while the method might perhaps be a bit uncivilized, I’m grateful for the thought. I trust the good people of Little Longstone did not see fit to make you put your pugilistic talents to use?”

“They were all the personification of kindness. In fact, we even saw someone I know. One of the museum investors.”

“Oh? Who was that?”

“Mrs. Warrenfield. She suffers from numerous maladies and is visiting Little Longstone to take the waters. She mentioned the duke’s party this evening-I assume she’ll be attending.” He hesitated, then said, “You were surprised that Spencer wished to venture into the village.”

“In truth, I was stunned. Spencer loves to wander about the estate, walking to the springs and strolling in the gardens. The property is private, and I’m grateful he has such a place, where he can strike out on his own a bit as it builds his strength and allows me to not worry-which, I’m afraid, I tend to do. But he’s always been adamant about not wanting to venture off the grounds; some years ago I simply stopped asking if he wanted to join me.”

“I realize you were worried about him, worried for him, and I appreciate that you trusted me enough to allow him to accompany me. Spencer appreciated it as well.”

“I didn’t doubt he was in good hands. While I freely admit I was concerned that someone might hurt Spencer’s feelings, I was confident that you wouldn’t hesitate to-”

“Pound the piss out of them? It would have been my very great pleasure.”

She lowered her gaze, and she plucked at the satin strings on her reticule. “After Spencer told me about your afternoon in the village, I told him about the shooting.” Looking up, she met his gaze squarely. “I give you leave to say ‘I told you so. ’”

“He was upset.”

“That is putting it mildly. He insisted I tell him every detail, questioning me in a manner I suspect a Bow Street Runner might use to interrogate a crime suspect. It required a great deal of reassuring on my part to convince him I was fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly fit.”

“Did that argument convince Spencer?”

“Not exactly. He demanded to see my injury. After he saw for himself that it was barely more than a scratch, our conversation took a turn for the better.”

“He was hurt that you hadn’t confided in him.”

“Hurt, angry, worried. His expression was one I hope to never see again.”

“Spencer worries about you just as you worry about him. We cannot always protect the people we love from worry, as much as we might want to. Sometimes we just have to let them worry.”

“Spencer said something very similar-right after he reminded me that he is no longer a child. He then made me promise never to hide something important from him.” One corner of her mouth lifted. “I, of course, extracted a similar promise from him.”

“So everything was well in the end.”

She nodded. “I believe in the back of my mind I had every intention of telling him, but I took umbrage at your telling me I should. I haven’t had a man underfoot telling me what to do in many years.”

“I’m certain you meant underfoot in the nicest way,” he said with a flash of his dimples. “And I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do. I was merely suggesting.”

“I realize that-now. However, at the time I reacted badly, and I’m sorry.” She shot him a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid that Today’s Modern Woman does not like being ordered about.”

He drew back in exaggerated surprise. “Indeed? I hadn’t noticed that at all.”

She laughed. “As for Spencer, he became very manly about wanting to take care of me.”