“Because you think like a man. Try thinking the way you did when you were their age.” Her voice softened. “Kit is barely older than you were when you went to France, is he not?”
Oh, God, he was, and considering the trouble Heath had landed himself in then … “Just think about it, will you?” he said hoarsely. “Talk to your mother and see what she says.”
Giselle sniffed. “I know whatshewill say. She likes you. She will think it all perfectly acceptable, because she thinks we are marrying.”
“It will certainly be seen by anyone as perfectly acceptable, even after we part. Besides, I was already planning to invite you to our Harvest Ball later this week, and this way you will conveniently be right there.”
“Are not harvest celebrations generally earlier—in September or October?”
“Due to the necessity of my being in court, we decided to postpone the Harvest Ball until this week. The women in the village near Longmead agreed to plan it on my behalf, since one hasn’tbeen held since my mother’s death and since you and I are newly betrothed.”
He seized her hands. “Just come to Longmead, you and your mother. I promise to behave myself.”
“You had better,” she said, unwittingly betraying that she was considering his suggestion. Or perhaps not so unwittingly, since she took her hands from his. “Very well, I will talk to Maman.” She thrust out her chin. “But only if you agree to dance a waltz with me at your Harvest Ball.”
“Certainly. I’ll have to dance at least once with you, anyway, since we’ll be announcing our engagement there, so it might as well be a waltz. I assume you know how?”
“Doyou?” she asked saucily.
“Of course,” he said, though he didn’t know it well. “I make sure to learn every dance that involves holding a beautiful woman in my arms.” He could practice before the Harvest Ball, couldn’t he?
Before she could retort, a tap came at the window, startling them both. He glanced over to see Renham standing there, looking agitated. He opened the door. “What is it, Renham?”
“Master Zachary says he cannot sleep in your mother’s old room because it is haunted.”
Heathbrook released her hands to rub his temples. “Of course it is. I’ll be right there.”
As soon as Renham left, Heathbrook cast her an imploring look. “So, you’ll come to Longmead then.”
“I said I’d talk to …” She lifted her eyes heavenward. “Oh, very well. As long as Maman does not object. But there will be no secret kisses, do you hear?”
“I swear it upon my honor,” he said, crossing his heart. And he meant to hold to it if it killed him.
Which it very well might.
Chapter 12
As her mother stared out one window of Heath’s park drag, Giselle stared out the other, wondering how to mention the possibility of their staying at Longmead. When Giselle had arrived home last night, Maman had been in bed and left word she was not to be disturbed. And this morning, they had been hastily preparing to leave for Bath, with little time to talk about anything, since his cursed lordship had wished to be on the road by the ungodly hour of seven in the morning.
Had he gone quite mad? The sun had just come up! If this was indicative of how early he rose every day, it was probably good that she planned not to marry him.
Even if he ever wished to marryher, which looked more doubtful by the day. Bed her? Yes. Marry her? She did not know if that was possible for him. Even his brothers meant more to him than she did, to be sure.
“Are you well?” Maman asked. “I know you do not feel fully awake until you have had a great deal of coffee, which you did not have the chance to have this morning, but you must endure that if that is what the earl wishes.”
“What the earl wishes?” She gritted her teeth. “At present, Maman, I do not give a franc what the earl wishes. And when didyou start caring what the earl wishes? You did not even like him at first.”
Her mother glanced away. “He grows on one.”
That was the trouble. Hedidgrow on one. Rather like a boil.
An image of a boil with Heath’s face on it made her smile. Who was she fooling? She liked the rascal. That was what made this all so hard.
Giselle sighed. “Well, I hope he has grown on you enough that you would spend two weeks with him underfoot. He has invited us to stay at Longmead rather than at our lodgings in Bath.”
Her mother blinked. “He has? But what about—”
“He says he will happily transport us to Bath and back every day.”